Lost In The Woods
by Ardwolf
Summary: Captain Picard’s bad day just got a lot worse, courtesy of Q. Which is nothing compared to the day Malcolm Reynolds is about to have when River starts babbling about the kindly t’ien lung and his curious bunny rabbit… ST:TNG/Firefly crossover.
1. Ch 1: Having A Bad Day

A Star Trek:TNG / Firefly crossover.

Captain Picard's bad day just got a lot worse, courtesy of Q. Which is nothing compared to the day Malcolm Reynolds is about to have when River starts babbling about the kindly _t'ien lung _and his curious bunny rabbit...

This takes place several months after the second season ST:TNG episode "Q Who?"and two days after the Firefly episode "Objects In Space". At least from the characters point of view...

It helps if you're familiar with Star Trek:TNG (who isn't?) and Firefly (If you aren't, go buy the series on DVD and the movie! Seriously! _Good _stuff.)

As for the Chinese used in the story, well, go look it up. :) That's what I did. Google the phrase "Firefly Pinyinary" for a good Firefly Chinese dictionary.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek (any of them, darn!), Firefly (double-darn!) or any of the characters, ships, or locations mentioned in this story. If I did do you think I'd be writing fan-fiction? :)

* * *

"Tea, Earl Gray, hot." His voice was tired; he could feel the ache creeping into his bones. "Computer, play Beethoven's ___Für Elise_, pianissimo."

"There are 9,643 selections by that title. Please specify."

The computer's neutral female voice grated on his nerves. Between the spatial anomaly they had been tracking for three days (only to see it vanish as the probe left the launcher) and the preparations for the upcoming diplomatic conference between Andoria and Tellar Prime, he was exhausted and uncharacteristically short-tempered.

"It doesn't matter--pick one at random, just ensure it uses a real piano." He growled. The soothing music poured out of hidden speakers. Taking his tea he wandered over to the archaic bookshelf, running his eye along the comforting familiarity of books grown old before he was born. He chose _Hamlet_ and set his tea on the side table, settling himself comfortably on the couch.

Alone in his ready room he let out a contented grunt he'd never allow himself in company, and began to read the ancient text. In his mind he could hear the chill wind whistling around them as the two huddled guards exchanged their watch.

_B__ernardo: __'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco._  
_Francisco: __For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter __cold. And I am sick at heart._

He could feel the muscles in his neck unknotting as he sank deeper into the familiar play. It was a rude shock when his com badge erupted unexpectedly. A stab of pain raced through his forehead.

"Captain Picard to the bridge _immediately_." Commander Riker's voice snarled angrily. A wave of annoyance flared but years of discipline took over and the only outward sign was a resigned sigh. Wincing as he rose from the couch he took a single sip of his untouched tea, unconsciously adjusted his uniform and strode toward the door.

"Yes, Number One, what is it?" He asked calmly as he entered the bridge. In his tiredness it took a moment to spot the problem. Commander Riker stood stiffly as he glared down at the person sitting in the command chair. Councilor Troi sat in her usual place, but was holding her head in both hands, her pose screaming defeated frustration. Data was at the helm, but had turned his chair to face the command chair. As always, his albino face betrayed no emotion.

"Jean-Luc, _mon ami!"_ The tall dark-haired figure rose and spread his arms, a wide innocent grin plastered across his face.

Disciplined calm was suddenly drowned in cold deadly rage.

"Q." Venom dripped from the syllable. The _thing_ walking toward him, which pretended to be a person--and used the _Enterprise_ as its own personal chew toy--had the unmitigated _gall_ to look hurt.

"_Mon __capitaine__, _are you still angry with me?" Q stopped and looked at Picard wide-eyed. "You _said_ humans could handle anything. I was only taking you at your word! It's not my fault if your opinion of your abilities was ludicrously overblown."

"_Eighteen people, _Q. You _murdered _eighteen members of my crew and you expect me to welcome you with open arms? You expect us to be bosom companions? You are beneath contempt!"

"Yes, well get over your little temper-tantrum, Picard. It's really unbecoming you know."

"Do you have _any _compassion, Q? Any slightest trace of the milk of human kindness?"

Q cocked his head. "Noooo--no I don't think so. Wait--no. Not a drop, my dear captain."

"Get off my ship, Q. _Now_." Captain Picard advanced menacingly toward Q, part of him shocked at how much the rest of him wanted to pound the smirking alien into a red smear on the deck. He noticed Worf standing at his station, staring impassively at the back of Q's head. A phaser hung at the lieutenant's waist. He briefly entertained the fantasy of Q exploding under the fury of a level 16 phaser blast.

"You're so _fierce_ when you're angry, Jean-Luc." Q said admiringly. "Like a yapping puppy--all fuzziness and ferocious, cuddly futility."

Q's face hardened. "You _dare_ accuse me of lacking compassion, _mon __capitaine_? As if a primitive savage species like yours understands the meaning of the word!"

"That calumny was old and tired the first time you trotted it out, Q. It wasn't true then and it isn't true now." The murderous rage was ebbing, Picard could feel his self-control reasserting itself even as the anger-fueled adrenaline slipped away, leaving him drained and exhausted. But he'd be damned if he'd show weakness before this _thing_. He stiffened his spine, willing himself to stare Q in the eye.

"Listen, Jean-Luc, I know how emotional you primitives can be when you don't get your beauty sleep. I've been terribly remiss, coming to visit and not bringing a present." Q stroked his chin, apparently deep in thought.

"I know!" He snapped his fingers and a large box appeared in Picard's command chair, with a pink ribbon and bow. He gestured toward the box. "Just make a wish, Jean-Luc, anything at all, and it shall be yours."

His bones were aching again, the long days, the adrenaline rush, and Q's arrogant disregard for sentient creatures. It was just too much.

"_Fine_. All right, Q. Anything I want, correct?" Q nodded, smiling. "Very well. _Give me back my murdered crew members, you pathetic excuse for a would-be god!"_

The world seemed to freeze. Even Data looked surprised. Q however, merely raised an eyebrow.

"I offer you anything in the universe and you ask for that? I'm disappointed, Jean-Luc. It's such a _trivial_ request."

"Trivial, Q? Life is never trivial. If you were one tenth of what you pretend to be, you'd know that." Picard snorted. "But that's the one thing you _can't_ give me, can you? It's beyond your power."

"Oh very well, if you insist. One miracle--as a peace offering." Q snapped his fingers. "_Voila!"_

The bridge was suddenly crowed with more people. Eighteen of them, most in uniform, some dressed for bed, and one unfortunate lady clad only in rivulets of water that rapidly made a puddle around her bare feet. She shrieked and crouched, trying to cover herself. The others looked around, confused.

Picard's mouth fell open. He recognized every one of them. He had agonized over each casualty notification to the families. He hadn't known the victims very well, which made the letters even harder to write. So he'd poured over everything ever recorded about them, as an inadequate final farewell. He knew their names, their faces, their dreams...

He'd _also_ spent many sleepless nights replaying the nightmare of the Borg encounter, second-guessing each move on that fateful day, wondering what he could have done differently to spare them their tragic and meaningless deaths.

Only now, it appeared they hadn't died after all. He struggled with exhaustion and shock, trying to adapt to what Q had just done. Done so _trivially_, like throwing a dog a bone.

"No need to thank me, Jean-Luc." Q said, beaming. "I appear to have some compassion after all, do I not?" His face turned serious. "Now, _mon ami_, it's time to see how compassionate you humans really are. After all, miracles aren't free. There's _always_ a price, _mon capitaine_."

Then Q vanished. And all hell broke loose.


	2. Ch 2: Down The Rabbit Hole

The red alert klaxon blared to life and Data spun to his console, fingers flying over the controls.

"All off-duty personnel clear the bridge!" Picard shouted as he headed for his chair. "Data, what's happening?"

"The spatial rift that we have been attempting to find has apparently found us, Captain." Data reported calmly. "The rift's subspace distortion is spiking--three hundred millicochranes and rising. At the current rate of progression the rift will rupture in approximately 25 seconds."

"Back us away Mr. Data, impulse power only. Using the warp drive this close to the rift might trigger a rupture. Give me at least 20,000 kilometers." Picard ordered.

"I am engaging full impulse power now, Captain. However, given our initial position and velocity relative to the rift I estimate our distance will be just over 2,500 kilometers when it ruptures. Projected radius of the rupture is approximately 7,000 kilometers."

"Data, are you saying we can't escape?" Commander Riker asked.

"That is correct, Commander."

"Raise shields." Riker commanded.

"All hands, this is the Captain. Brace for impact, I say again brace for impact!"

"Shields raised, Commander. Subspace distortion at 984 millicochranes. Rift will rupture in 3 seconds, 2, 1, _now_."

As catastrophes go, there wasn't a lot to see. A barely perceptible ripple raced toward the fleeing ship like a wave. When it passed the _Enterprise_ was gone, and the stars blazed on, as though the mighty vessel had simply never been.

At least that's what an observer outside the rupture would have seen, had any been present. From the _Enterprise's_ point of view things were somewhat different.

As the wave front of the rupture passed over the ship the stars winked out on the view screen. Everyone onboard experienced what Commander Riker later described as "being turned inside out and wrung like a wet dish rag" and Dr. Crusher called "the universe turning into a whirligig carnival ride".

The unpleasantness ended fairly quickly and the stars winked back on. The crew took a few seconds to orient themselves, although Data, seemingly unaffected, worked to determine what had happened to the ship.

"What the devil was _that_?" Picard murmured, the experience on top of the exhaustion making him want to lose the tiny sip of tea he'd managed in his ready room. He told himself sternly that he was _not _nauseous.

"Captain, the rupture seems to have catapulted the _Enterprise _approximately 40 light-years in what ship chronometers indicate was 6.7 seconds." Data reported. "My internal chronometer agrees with this reading. This is consistent with the rift having formed a wormhole, which the _Enterprise_ traversed. A preliminary review of ship systems reveals the _Enterprise _has suffered no damage. Shields are still at one hundred percent, both impulse and warp drives read nominal and there is no sign of the spatial rift. I have disengaged impulse engines."

Data turned to face Picard. "It would seem, Captain, we are none the worse for our recent experience."

"You heard what Q said just before he disappeared, though." Deanna Troi spoke up. "He said all miracles have their price. I don't think the rift rupturing right under us was an accident, Captain. And I find it hard to believe Q would go to all that trouble simply to toss us a mere 40 light years when he could just snap his fingers instead."

"Agreed. Number One have engineering run a ship-wide level 3 diagnostic on all systems. Mr. Worf, please run a thorough scan of space around us. I want to know about any ship traffic within a light-year of us."

"Aye, Captain." The taciturn Klingon officer bent to his task.

"Computer, please inform the eighteen crew members that recently appeared on the bridge to report to sick bay for a medical exam. Have Dr. Crusher inform me of the results of the examinations."

"Acknowledged."

"Councilor, I need you to speak with them once Dr. Crusher has examined them. Find out what they remember."

"Should I tell them about the Borg incident?" She asked.

"_No_." He snapped, and then waved a hand in apology. "Not unless they volunteer information about it. Just tell them Q is up to his usual tricks again."

"Yes, Captain." She stood, and then said with a half smile. "Whatever else he may be, Q is a convenient explanation for nearly anything."

Picard grimaced. "Indeed. Councilor, I needn't stress how delicate the situation is for those crew members. We need to handle this with the upmost sensitivity and discretion."

"Understood, Captain. " She left the bridge with a thoughtful expression, no doubt wondering how you went about telling something they'd been dead for several months...

"Data, where exactly are we? Why did Q bring us _here_ in particular? Which system are we closest to?"

"Stand by, Captain." Data entered several queries on his console. He sat back with a puzzled look.

"Captain, this is intriguing." Data turned to face Picard. "We are on the edge of the Chara system, approximately 27 light years from Earth."

"Chara?" Picard's brow wrinkled. "Chara has no class M planets, as I recall. Wait a moment. There's something about the Chara system that tugs at my memory. Oh _blast_, I can't think of it."

"In the early 21'st century, Chara was considered the most likely star within 100 light-years of Earth to have a class M planet, Captain. It was not until the Vulcan High Command gave Earth access to their stellar cartography database that this expectation was proven false. The only anomaly in the Chara system is that it contains an unusually large number of planets and moons-none of which are class M. There are 12 class J planets and four class N ones. The class J planets are collectively circled by hundreds of class G moons, however."

"Why is that so intriguing Mr. Data?" Picard asked curiously. "Other than an enormous number of freakishly large moons, Chara is about as pedestrian a star as one can hope to find. Star Fleet doesn't even have a base here. I don't think there's been so much as a science probe to Chara in the last hundred years."

Data hesitated. "Captain, there is no doubt as to our location. Based on spectroscopic analysis of this system's star, combined with the spectra of other nearby stars, including Sol, I have determined this system _must_ be Chara. Yet it cannot be. Given the anomalies I discovered, I ran a level 4 diagnostic on both astrometric sensors and associated data systems but discovered no problems with our equipment."

"It's not like you to equivocate, Mr. Data. What are you telling me?"

"Captain, if this is indeed the Chara system it has changed beyond all recognition. While there are still 12 class J planets, the four class N planets are now class M. Further, instead of the expected 637 class G moons circling the gas giants there are only 250. However there are _also_ 48 class M moons, 123 class H moons, and 216 class L moons."

Picard stared at his android officer. "Data, that's impossible."

"Yes sir. None the less, it is the case. I have no plausible explanation, however."

Riker and Worf had stopped what they were doing to stare at the view screen in shock. Data had used the screen to put up a plot of the Chara system, showing each planet and moon. Color coded by class, the screen confirmed Data's preposterous claims.

"There is more, Captain." Data continued. "Our database has detailed orbital data on the planets in this system. Although the planetary classifications are impossibly inaccurate, basic planetary masses correspond for every stellar body in the system. But the planetary positions within their orbits do not-unless we have jumped forward in time 153 years."


	3. Ch 3: We’re Not In Kansas Anymore, Data

"Looks like Deanna was right." Commander Riker commented. "Q tossed us 40 light-years away _and_ 150 years into the future. I _really_ dislike that man."

"Q is not a man, Number One. Well, at least that explains why this system has so many class M worlds." Picard commented. "The Federation must have terraformed this system sometime after our own present."

"That is unlikely, Captain." Data commented. "Using known technologies, Federation or otherwise, there has been insufficient time. Some of the class M worlds have been stable for at least 350 years. Furthermore, sensors indicate even the smallest terraformed moon has standard gravity on its surface. Clearly many of these worlds possess artificial gravity."

"What about the Genesis device?" Picard asked. Data shook his head.

"Even allowing for the Genesis device, it does not explain how this system contained class M worlds only 100 years after Zephram Cochrane discovered warp drive on Earth. The Vulcan database shows this system has no class M planets. Our own database concurs."

"Not to mention Federation probes have mapped every system within one hundred light-years of Earth." Picard commented drily. "What we have here, my friends, is a genuine mystery."

Picard was still tired, but he could feel energy flowing back. Nothing fired him up like an impossible puzzle.

"Captain, I have finished my scan of surrounding space." Mr. Worf declared. "The results are...very disturbing."

Picard raised his eyebrows. It took a great deal to disturb his chief security officer.

"Explain, Mr. Worf."

"There are two major oddities, Captain. First, I do not believe any ships within a one light-year radius offer any threat, actual or potential, to the _Enterprise._"

"That's _good_ news, Worf." Commander Riker commented, staring curiously at the Klingon.

"Yes, Commander." Worf agreed. "However, I _have_ detected hundreds of thousands of ships operating within this system."

"I take it there's something about these ships that causes you concern, Mr. Worf?" Picard asked drily.

"Yes sir. I have detected no warp signatures in this system _at all_, nor for a radius of 10 light-years around the _Enterprise_. Further, I have been unable to locate any artificial sub-space signal of any kind, to the limits of the _Enterprise's _sensors."

"Now _that_ is bad news." Riker said, frowning. "I can't imagine the Federation giving up subspace related technologies in only 150 years--they're too fundamental to, well, _everything_."

"Perhaps the Federation discovered new technologies we simply aren't equipped to detect, Number One. Remember, on Earth we went from animal transport to space travel in just over a century."

"Captain, none of the vessels I've detected have been travelling at more than .1_c_." Worf said. "Most are travelling _much_ slower. Further, I am detecting a great deal of electromagnetic radiation coming from them."

"Electro-you mean _radio_?" Riker asked incredulously.

"Yes, Commander. As well as pulsed emissions I would guess are primitive sensors." Worf confirmed.

"So what happened? Did the Federation fall?" Riker wondered.

"Unlikely, Commander." Data replied. "Terraforming efforts appear to be continuing on several of the class G moons. The technology required to create artificial gravity for an entire moon is beyond current Federation abilities. It is extremely unlikely such efforts could continue if civilization had fallen."

"So, we have _another_ impossibility. A supposedly barren system in the heart of the Federation. A system that in fact supports hundreds of worlds. On the one hand they have technology more advanced than ours, but on the other they seem to lack warp technology or use subspace in any capacity. And yet this system is part of the Federation--or was."

"A succinct summation, Captain." Data agreed.

"The level 3 diagnostic is finished, Captain." Riker reported. "No damage. We came through the wormhole in perfect condition."

"Yes, Number One, but the question is where, exactly, is _here_?" Picard frowned. "I'm starting to wonder if that wormhole merely transported us in time and space."

"Captain?" Commander Riker cocked his head.

"I wonder if Q didn't transport us to a different _universe, _Commander. Remember, the Constitution-class _Enterprise_ commanded by Captain Kirk encountered a mirror universe. One where Earth ruled a brutal interstellar empire instead of forming the Federation."

"You think Q put us in an alternate _dimension_?" Riker's eyes widened.

"Look at the facts. This system has been terraformed far beyond anything the Federation ever attempted. They presumably lack warp drive or subspace technologies. I suspect they lack FTL capabilities of any kind."

"That would explain why they terraformed this system." Data nodded. "However, it does not explain how the original colonists reached this system. Lacking FTL capability would mean any ship would take years to reach this system. For example, a ship from Earth would take 54 years assuming it traveled at one-half light speed."

"True. " Picard admitted. "But on Earth, even during the 20'th century, they had considered a concept called the generation ship, a huge self-contained vessel that would travel for decades or centuries before arriving at its destination."

"Speculation will not tell us why Q brought us here, wherever _here_ is." Worf said gruffly. "Unless he is merely toying with us."

"No, Mr. Worf. As capricious and cruel as Q can be, he had a purpose. He's testing us. Remember, he said it was time to see how kind humans really are--how compassionate _we _on board this ship, really are." Picard frowned, thinking.

"We need information from a local source." Riker commented.

"What about the Prime Directive, Number One?" Picard asked. Objects were starting to get blurry. Picard rubbed his eyes.

"Strictly speaking, we know this _is_ an interstellar civilization, in some ways more advanced than the Federation." Riker replied. "Are you all right, Captain? You've been burning the candle at both ends for a week now."

"I know, Number One. But the captain can't sleep in the middle of an emergency."

"Captain, no ship in this system is any threat to the _Enterprise_." Mr. Worf offered. "The only vessel within a million kilometers of us is less than 100 meters long, and would take two days at its current speed to reach us-even if they knew we were here, which I doubt."

Picard weighed temptation against duty. Riker broke in. "Sir, I promise to wake you immediately if anything happens. The _Enterprise _needs her captain rested and alert if we're to get back home."

"Very well, Number One. You have the conn." Picard rose gratefully; selfishly glad to be headed to bed. "Use this time to run a level 1 diagnostic on all ship's systems, and use every sensor we've got to probe the system and its ship traffic. Wake me at once if our presence is detected."

"Aye-aye sir. Sleep well." Riker said. Picard nodded and headed for his quarters and his bed.


	4. Ch 4: In The Gray

Picard woke, stretching and feeling wonderful. For a moment he allowed himself to not remember his duty, the problems the day would invariably present. But only for a moment. Rising he performed his morning rituals, and within 15 minutes was settling himself in his command chair.

"Good morning, Mr. Data." He greeted the android.

"Good morning, Captain. I trust you slept well?" Picard raised his eyebrow. "I am attempting to expand my knowledge of the appropriate use of human customs, in this case well wishes used as greetings."

"Ah, I see. Yes, Mr. Data I slept extremely well." _Twelve hours well, _he thought to himself ruefully. _Riker had a point. I allowed myself to grow so tired it could very well have affected my judgment. I must watch that in the future._

"Report, Mr. Data. What have you learned while I was asleep?"

"We have learned a great deal Captain. Much of it is at odds with Federation history. I believe you were correct in your suspicion that Q has sent us to some kind of alternate universe. May I suggest a meeting of senior officers to present our findings?"

"An excellent suggestion, Mr. Data. Mr. Worf, would you be so kind as to arrange for the senior officers to meet me in one hour? "

"Yes, Captain."

"Oh, and Worf? That ship you mentioned yesterday, the one that was two days away. Where is it now?"

"It passed within 750,000 kilometers at its closest approach, sir. Once past it maintained course and speed and will reach one of the moons surrounding Chara VI in approximately two weeks. Sensors were able to determine the ship carried a crew of nine, all human."

"So they didn't detect us?"

"I believe not, Captain. I had Mr. La Forge tune our shields at the frequency of their EM pulse sensors so the signal was directed around us. While not a true cloak, it allowed us to remain undetected."

"Good thinking, Mr. Worf. Well done."

"Thank you, Captain."

He spent the next hour on the humdrum routine of captaining a starship, studying the reports of his senior officers concerning ship operations, proposed procedural changes, and study requests from most of the scientists on board. Half the job of being captain, he mused, was playing politician to the various department heads who wanted to monopolize a sensor array or use up most of the computer's available capacity on their own pet projects. It was a relief when it was time for the staff meeting.

_Such is the life of a Star Fleet officer. _He reflected. _Tedium mixed with equal parts stark terror. _Chuckling at his own whimsy he settled into his chair, his senior officers already assembled. Picard opened the meeting as he always did, with a quick summary.

"By now I'm sure you're all aware Q has deigned, in his infinite arrogance, to send the _Enterprise_ to the Chara system some 150 years in our future. This meeting is to bring everyone up to speed on our current situation. Commander Riker, if you please." He settled back in his chair, relaxed yet alert.

"Certainly, Captain. It seems we really _are _in some kind of alternate reality. In our reality the Chara system is uninhabited, with no class M planets. In this reality the Chara system is composed of literally hundreds of terraformed planets and moons. The Charans don't have FTL capability of any kind--travel or communications--yet their presence indicates they traveled here from another system."

"We've also determined the Charans are human, and come from Earth. There's no trace of other intelligent species. As far as technology goes, they seem to be on par or ahead of the Federation in many areas, with the notable exception of sub-space physics, which they appear not to have discovered."

"Certainly their terraforming skills far exceed anything in the Federation. They seem to have mastered nanotechnology, artificial gravity, and from the evidence we've gathered they also have inertial damping systems of some kind. They lack warp drive but have highly developed ion drives which are certainly on par with our impulse engines. Coincidentally, their drives use deuterium, just like ours do."

"They use nuclear reactors to power their ships, but don't seem to deploy nuclear weapons--at least our sensors haven't picked up anything that looks like a weapon signature. Some of the more developed planets have fusion generators; the less developed moons use nuclear reactors, or have no power source at all. We haven't managed to discover what powers the artificial gravity systems they use for terraformed moons, however."

"Energy weapons seem to be limited to lasers and particle beams, and they still use chemical projectile weapons. They don't have shield technology either, and we found no evidence of antimatter."

Riker gestured for Lieutenant Worf to take over.

"Captain, from a tactical point of view the Charans pose no threat to the _Enterprise_. Even the largest of their capital ships does not mount any weapons that could penetrate our shields. In fact, unless they do possess nuclear weapons we could ignore even a massed attack by the bulk of their forces--should we choose to stand and fight. With warp drive it would be our choice to engage the enemy or not."

"I see. Mr. Data, what have you to add?"

"The Charans possess a sophisticated light-speed communications network that links most of the settled worlds of the system. From transmissions we've intercepted it appears the ships can act as nodes in this network when within range of a world-based transceiver. Transmissions are encrypted; we are attempting to analyze both the communication protocol and the encryption algorithm. Lieutenant Annera assures me she will have the problem solved very soon. Once that occurs we will be able to tap into the Charan network to communicate."

"Captain, I've already modified our EM sensor array to serve as a transceiver whenever Lieutenant Annera cracks the Charan protocols." La Forge, the chief engineer spoke up.

"Very good, Mr. La Forge. That brings up the subject of whether we should communicate with the Charans. I want to defer that discussion until the rest of you finish your reports."

"I guess I'm next." Dr. Crusher spoke up. "Obviously I can't make any determination of the Charans medical technology from this distance so I want to talk about the exams I ran on the crew members Q returned to us." She instantly had everyone's attention.

_You mean the crew members Q raised from the dead_. Picard thought. He was still intensely uncomfortable about that, not having had time to come to terms with their being alive.

"None of the crew members remember anything about the _Enterprise_ being hurled into the Delta quadrant. Ensign Tanaka was actually taking a shower, which she wouldn't have been doing during an alert situation." Dr. Crusher smiled and shook her head. "From what I can piece together what Q actually did was snatch the crew members from a point in time just before the _Enterprise _appeared in the J-25 system and move them forward onto our bridge, yesterday."

_Damn him!_ Picard thought, while remaining outwardly calm. _Q knew the hull section the Borg grabbed was empty but let us think the crew had been killed. It was all a **trick**_**.**

"That's why Q called it trivial." Picard said aloud. "It was a trick. He never raised those crew members from the dead; he simply shunted them through time, just as he's done with us."

"At least he rescued them, Captain." Deanna Troi spoke up. "We should count our blessings."

"Indeed." Picard said. "While I'm overjoyed to have those crew members back, it would have been better if Q had informed us they were alive _before_ we told their families they were dead. Tell me Councilor, have you had any luck sensing the Charans?"

Troi shook her head. "No, Captain, we're too far away. But I did sense something unusual in the ship that passed us last night. I'm sure one of the crew was a telepath."

"Telepathy is nearly unheard of in humans, Councilor."

"I know. But every crew member on that ship was human, I'm certain of that. Even the telepath was human--a young girl I think. But her mind..." Troi shook her head.

"What about her mind, Deanna?" Riker asked. "Was she powerful?"

"Insane." Troi said. "I've never sensed anything like it before. And--she was looking back at me." Troi shivered.

"Could she have read anything from you?" Picard asked.

"It's possible, Captain. I didn't sense hostility, just curiosity. But there was something about her mind. It felt...predatory. No, that's not quite right. She felt like a predator feels, like an eagle, or a wolf. Focused." She shook her head again. "It's hard to explain to non-telepaths."

"That may complicate things." Picard frowned. "If she told the ship's captain he might report it to the authorities."

"No." She said flatly. Picard looked at Troi.

"Councilor?"

"It's an impression, Captain. The crew of that ship would not go to the authorities."

"Are you certain, Councilor?"

"Yes." She said firmly. "To an empath a person's emotional state has a...a _taste_ I suppose you could call it. Every crew member on that ship gave off the same taste."

"What are you saying?" Riker asked her. "That the crew of that ship are criminals?"

Troi hesitated. "Noooo...I wouldn't say _criminals_, Commander." She frowned. "But I definitely got the impression they regard authority as being something best avoided."

"Well, that might work to our advantage in a first contact scenario." Riker commented. Picard set back and folded his hands on the table.

"Now that Commander Riker has raised the subject a second time we should discuss out next move. Would it violate the Prime Directive if we contacted the Charans? I am open to opinions. Anyone?"

"The Charans are an advanced civilization." Commander Riker said immediately. "They obviously have interstellar capability and widespread space travel. We know the Charans originally came from Earth."

"With all due respect, Commander." Data spoke up. "The Prime Directive applies to pre-warp civilizations. In other words, civilizations that have not yet discovered FTL travel--which the Charans do not possess."

"Yes, but Data, I'm not certain the interstellar travel has to be FTL." La Forge objected. "The Prime Directive is designed to protect a civilization from the knowledge that other intelligent life forms exist before they're ready to handle it. It also makes sure the Federation won't supply a culture with technology that culture couldn't develop on its own."

"That is an interesting point, Geordi. However the Prime Directive also prevents us from interfering in the internal affairs of another culture. We could not, for example use our technological advantage to aid one side in a civil war."

"Well, if we kept the contact limited and made sure the Charans didn't get their hands on any Federation technology we wouldn't be interfering." Geordi replied. "That ship last night, the one who's crew doesn't like the authorities. Sounds like they'd be a perfect way for us to find out what we need to know."

"Deanna, you said the telepath on that ship is insane." Dr. Crusher joined the conversation. "What kind of crew would serve with an insane telepath?"

"I don't know. Perhaps her insanity is only evident to another telepath. Or perhaps she doesn't appear to be a threat to them."

"Councilor, do you believe we can trust the crew of that ship?" Picard asked, point blank.

"I...believe so, Captain. Well, almost all of them. One of them struck me as very mercenary. That one might attempt to take advantage of us if he could, but I believe the rest of the crew is trustworthy."

"Trustworthy..." Picard murmured, staring into space. "We are here because Q wants to test our compassion--or so he says. Q may be malicious, and not to be trusted, but he isn't stupid."

"It would be no kindness on our part if we interfered in the Charan culture or sovereignty. Yet we need to interact with the Charans in some respect to gain the information we need. And, conveniently, there is one ship passing close to us, whose crew is unlikely to share knowledge of our existence with the authorities."

He looked around the table_._ "A ship that just _happens_ to be far from the shipping lanes, that just _happens_ to have a crew with the right attitude and just _happens_ to pass oh so very close to us."

"You believe Q has laid a trap, Captain?" Worf asked.

"A trap--or a test. When it comes to Q I suspect there isn't much of a difference." Picard said. "However where Q is concerned we should be wary of coincidence--especially _convenient_ coincidence."

"I wonder..." Dr. Crusher mused.

"Doctor?" Picard asked.

"Has anyone else noticed how Q reversed the roles this time?" She asked. "The last time he did this we were the primitives facing vastly overwhelming technology. This time we are in the superior role. We're talking about contacting one tiny isolated ship that is no match for us if it came to a fight, just as we were no match for the Borg."

"So you think Q is setting us up to be a bully?" Troi asked the doctor.

"Maybe. Obviously when it comes to the Charan civilization we're pretty evenly matched. One on one they can't win militarily, but we can't really fight an entire civilization, either."

"But against the _Enterprise, _what chance would one tiny ship and her crew have? They can't run, they can't fight, and they can't hide. Under those circumstances, our just saying _hello_ might make us the bully."

"And then Q wins." La Forge commented.

"Yet if we sit out here quietly, doing nothing, the test will continue forever." Commander Riker said, stroking his beard.

"Then we are agreed, Q is testing us to see what we'll do." Picard said. "The real question seems to be what compassion means in this particular situation."

Dr. Crusher nodded. "I think that's it. We claim to be able to perform first contact missions without causing harm to the civilizations we contact--but Q has tailor-made a situation where it would be terribly easy to act like the Borg."

"Almost like he wants to us to." La Forge said.

"What Q wants is immaterial." Picard said firmly. "Whatever we decide, we will uphold Federation ideals and prove Q wrong--_again_."

"You don't like him either, do you Captain?" Riker asked with a smile.

"No, Number One. Q causes grief and mayhem wherever he goes. That offends me."

"It still leaves the question of contacting that ship." Worf spoke up. "Do we or don't we?"

Picard settled back in his chair, thinking. "Mr. Data, how long before we're able to communicate on the Charan network?"

"Lieutenant Annera did not give a definite ETA, Captain. She is confident it will be today, however."

"Very well. Until she solves the Charan protocol we'll continue to gather information using ship's sensors. I'll take your reports under advisement and decide once we _can_ talk to them if we _should_. Dismissed."


	5. Ch 5: In The Black

"Good morning, Shepherd." Inara greeted the gray haired man sitting at the table. She busied herself making the first tea of the day.

"Inara, hello." He smiled, looking up from his bible. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did." She replied, and then frowned, trying to decide which tasteless color of protein to choke down today. "Honestly, would it bankrupt us to buy a few spices?"

"Might." Malcolm replied, walking into the galley. She blushed, and started to apologize. He waved it away. "No secret the grub gets a mite weak to the tongue after a spell. Still, least ways we got grub." He eyed the selection with a decided lack of enthusiasm. "Well, I _call _it grub. Might be some would call it by a less pleasin' name."

"Call what, sir?" Zoe asked, yawning as she came in. She sat down, blinking.

"Inara was commentin' on our fine selection of foodstuffs and I was just sayin' how I agreed." Mal snagged a couple of packs at random and sat down.

"That's supposed to be Kung Pao chicken, sir." Zoe observed, deadpan.

Mal looked down at his meal. "So? Though it was a kindness, you tellin' me. Never could see the difference twixt these things myself."

"The other package is spinach, sir." Zoe said. Mal turned slightly green.

"Do tell. Preacher, you like spinach, right?" Mal asked hopefully, pushing the second pack toward the older man.

"Yes I do, thank you kindly. Though I do wonder if this has ever seen the inside of a garden."

Mal tried not to watch as Book started eating the spinach with every indication of enjoyment.

Jayne came in next, followed soon after by Simon and River. Jayne grabbed his share and started wolfing it down. Simon, like Inara had earlier, hesitated, staring hopelessly at the packages. With a sympathetic look Inara handed him a cup of tea. River didn't take any food, but sat down quietly, watching.

"Soon as I'm done with this fine--though exceedingly tasteless--what'd you call it? Chicken?" Mal asked Zoe.

"Kung Pao chicken, sir."

"This fine example of tasteless Kung Pao chicken I'll go relieve Wash so's he can partake." Mal told Zoe, who nodded. "Where's Kaylee?"

"Still in her bunk, sir. Hasn't settled from our dustup with Jubal Early yet."

Mal frowned. "That's not good. Leavin' that _hundan_ to run out of air seemed like such a _good_ idea at the time, too. Now I've a mind to go back and shoot him. Jayne, you think Vera'd like to meet that _ben tian sheng de yi dui rou_?"

"I'm willin'" Jayne replied. "Course he's done cold by now. Not to mention we'd be weeks runnin' him down."

"Yeah." Mal sighed heavily.

"I'm sitting right here, you know." Book said quietly.

"Preacher seems to me Jubal Early'd be the last one you'd stand up for." Mal objected.

"Oh, I'm not, Mal. Not in the least." Book assured the other man.

"Jayne, I don't think Mr. Early's cold at all." Book dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "Devil's been keeping a spot all toasty for him, I reckon. Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord."

"Now them's some holy words I can get behind, when it comes to that _go-se dui_." Jayne said with menace in his tone. "He had no call treatin' Kaylee thata way."

"I saw a bunny rabbit last night." River announced suddenly. Jayne looked up eagerly.

"Mal, you had some meat on this boat you ain't been sharin'?"

"Oh yeah, didn't I mention it? Right next to the unicorn." Mal said sarcastically. "Jayne, this is _River_ talking, _dong ma?_"

"Oh. Well damn. Could'a gone for some rabbit." Jayne finished his third meal pack and sat back, disgruntled.

"Where did you see the rabbit, River?" Inara asked to break the awkward silence. Simon was looking pained.

"She's with the _t'ien lung yu shen de._" River said serenely. "Simon, give me something to eat, please."

"_Fong le_." Jayne muttered.

"A dragon?" Book blinked. "Mal, remember River sees the world a mite different than the rest of us. Could be she sees more of it, too. Jubal caught the rest of us before we knew he was there--but not her."

"River? Where's this dragon at?" Mal asked, suddenly serious. River waved her hand toward the side of the galley.

"Out in the black. He'll be here soon. Doesn't want to scare us." She smiled in that careless way that Mal just purely hated because every time he saw it something unpleasant was about to befall him or his ship.

"Anybody else feelin' a mite chilly about the backbone?" He asked, standing up. "Darlin', you do have a way of seriously creepifying folk about you and that's a fact." He reached for the microphone.

"Wash, you there?" Mal stiffened when Wash didn't answer immediately. "Wash, put down the damn dinosaurs and answer me, gorram it."

"What's up, Mal? You sound spooked."Wash replied.

"River's being her usual self, says we'll be having visitors soon. You ain't happened to notice any dragons about, have you? Kindly or--otherwise?"

"Dragons? Mal, have you got a stash you aren't sharing? Cause I could sure use some. Nothing on the scope. Tell you the truth it's been boring as hell up here all night. Nary a ship within days of us. Well, other than Jubal's derelict."

"Might be nothin' but River's fancy, keep an eye open anyway. I don't want nobody else sneakin' up on us. Ain't healthy. Stay there; I'll bring you some grub. I've got a sudden urge to do some star-gazin'."

"Ain't going anywhere." Wash's cheerful voice came from the speaker. "Be nice to have some company. Some...female...company. You listening, Zoe?"

"Let's take a walk, sir." Zoe stood up.

"Inara, I'd take it as a kindness if you'd rouse Kaylee out of her bunk. I need her in the engine room just in case River's dragon turns out to be more'n her brain sparkin'. Jayne, you see to Vera and her friends, just in case the dragon turns out to have a toothache or some such."

"Mal, she's loopy I tell you." Jayne objected.

"Loopy or not, she saved our hides. Or are you forgettin' that?" Mal asked mildly.

"If it weren't for her that bounty hunter wouldn't have come hunting _us_. You do know that, right?"

"That's as may be, but she's crew now. Her dragon may be nothin'. May be somethin'. Best be ready." Mal and Zoe left the galley. Cursing under his breath Jane headed for the armory.

Book studied the young girl across the table from him. Simon came and sat down, handing River her food while Inara headed toward Kaylee's quarters.

"River, this dragon, who is it?"

"_T'ien lung_, lost in the woods." River replied, with a brilliant smile. "The bunny rabbit was watching. She didn't expect me to be watching back."

"Doctor, I think she's telling us something important. It's just she can't quite manage." Book said quietly. "River, do you know how soon the dragon will come?"

"No. He's talking to all his friends. Can't decide if saying hello will scare us or not."

Simon looked at his sister, perplexed. The Alliance had done repeated neurosurgeries on her, turning the young prodigy into a babbling idiot. But sometimes she focused. When she did strange and terrible things tended to happen.

With the perfect clarity of hindsight Simon wasn't entirely sure River had _ever _really babbled. And he respected Book's good judgment; it had saved his life on at least one occasion.

"River, we can't understand. Can you explain?"

She turned to her brother, calm and, Simon realized, suddenly focused.

"He's decided. Simon. They're coming. Don't be afraid."

Book and Simon looked at one another for a split second, then both grabbed for the microphone.

"Captain, this is Book. River says they're coming _now_." Book's voice was quiet, but intense.

"_Wo de ma!"_ Wash's exclamation wasn't quiet; it was loud enough to make River cover her ears and giggle.

"What's going on, Mal? What is it?" Book demanded.

"Everyone, this is the Captain speakin'." Mal's voice was light and conversational, as it often was when he was in it up to his eyeballs

"River's dragon is real, and currently flyin' about a kilometer off our starboard beam, and is, oh my, so very, very, _very_ large. Let us hope it truly is kindly, or we are humped. Jayne, toward the goal of _not_ provokin' said dragon I want you to leave Vera and her friends sleepin' peaceful like."

"Oh, and I mean this from the bottom of my hopefully still beatin' heart, that includes any grenades you might have secreted about your person."

"No guns?" Jayne's voice came mournfully over the speaker.

"No guns. Trust me. Not so much as a pea shooter. Kaylee, _mei-mei_, we won't be needin' you just at the moment, so come up to the bridge and see River's dragon. In fact, _everybody _needs to see this, especially you, Jayne_."_

With all nine of the crew on the bridge it was standing room only, but nobody objected. They were too busy gawking at the monstrous ship the radar _said_ was a kilometer away. Mal wanted to have his doubts. If it looked that big a kilometer away it dwarfed any Alliance cruiser he'd ever seen, and they dwarfed _Serenity_.

"Wash, talk to me. How big _is _that thing?"

"Serenity's telling me its 643 meters long, Mal." Wash said in a hushed tone. "And 137 tall."

"That's a mighty big ship, sir." Zoe said. "What should we do?"

"I vote we pretend we haven't seen it and keep on course and speed." Wash said. "Maybe it'll get bored and go away."

"Might be some merit to that, Mal." Jayne said nervously. "That ain't somethin' Vera can handle."

"Well, River said it come by to say hello." Mal said, still speaking lightly. "We don't want to seem rude and unneighborly. Might be it could take offense." He gazed at the impossible ship, wondering _why me?_

"River says they didn't want to scare us." Simon spoke into the suddenly thoughtful silence.

"Doctor, with all due respect to yonder dragon, I think it's safe to say they failed." Mal said. "My belly's done gone and hid behind my backbone and I _really_ wanna go and pull the covers up over my little head."

"Well, they ain't shot at us yet." Kaylee said. "Maybe River's right and everything'll be shiny. Oh, and ain't she _shiny_?" Kaylee's eyes were wide as she stared at the marvel keeping pace with them. "What I wouldn't do to get an eyeful of the inside."

"Careful what you ask for, Kaylee. She's bound to be Alliance." Mal said sourly. "Course, it don't _look_ like an Alliance ship. Don't look like any ship I ever heard tell of."

"We should get off the bridge." River said suddenly. "They're going to say hello and the Captain needs to be the one to answer." Without another word she started worming her way through the press of bodies, headed off the bridge. Simon followed his sister and Inara and Kaylee followed him. Before he left Book leaned down and spoke in Mal's ear.

"She ain't Alliance, Mal. I don't know what she is, but that's no Alliance design."

"Shepherd, how is it you know so much about things not spoke of in the Bible? That is a powerful puzzle to me." Mal commented, looking him in the eye.

"Wasn't always a Shepherd, Mal. Try not to annoy our guest, hmm?"

"I'll be the soul of tact, Shepherd."

As soon as the bridge was empty except for Wash and Mal the incoming message light came on.

"You know, it would be real nice one day, knowin' somethin' afore River does." He muttered. "Wash, might as well let everybody listen in. Pipe it through the ship."

"--unknown vessel, please respond. This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship _Enterprise _calling the unknown vessel on our port beam. Please respond."

Mal's brow wrinkled. _Federation? Starship? _Wash shrugged at him, staring out the port.

"This is _Serenity_, Captain Malcolm Reynolds commanding. What can I do for you, _Enterprise?_" His mind was racing. Not Alliance--but nobody else could have built her. Odd accent, too. Talked a bit like Badger, but classier.

"Captain Reynolds, we ran into a spatial anomaly and were thrown off course. I was wondering if you could assist us."

"You ran into a which?" Mal asked, confused. "What kind of help you need?"

"That's a complicated question, Captain. And not one I'd care to discuss on an open channel. I do apologize but the situation is more complex than you could possibly believe."

"Well, I'm not opposed to helping those in need, but I can't see how my little boat could help folks in such a big...fine...ship as yours."

"We mean you no harm, I assure you. We are explorers and have gotten lost. We need to learn about the culture here, and would rather do so--quietly."

"So let me see if I understand you. You're from somewhere's else, and too shy to show up uninvited. That about cover it?"

Wash glared at him, jabbed his finger at the _Enterprise _and held his hands as wide apart as they would go. Mal rolled his eyes and made a placating gesture. There was a long pause. Then Picard spoke again.

"Essentially correct, Captain. You must understand, in our culture we have a law, called the Prime Directive. It forbids us from interfering in the internal affairs of those we encounter. We thought approaching your ship was a good way to gain the knowledge we need while keeping within the Prime Directive."

"I see." Mal had the most beatific smile on his face. Wash's eyed his captain uneasily. That smile meant trouble wasn't far away. "Your law keeps you from tryin' to tell others what to do, that it?"

"Essentially, yes. The Prime Directive is one of our most important laws. We have no intention of trying to control anyone."

Covering the mike Mal turned to Walsh, his grin widening from beatific to crazed. "I _like _this Captain Picard. Hope he's bein' straight." He uncovered the mike.

"Say I was willin' to help. How long we talkin'?"

"A month should be sufficient."

Mal frowned. A month sitting out here in the black, alone with this dragon-ship. A month of not reaching New Melbourne. _A month longer with Inara onboard_ a treacherous little voice whispered in his ear.

"It occurs, Captain, that we might be able to do business. Course I can't promise nothin' till I consult with my crew. But if the price is right, we'll take the job."

"We'd certainly be willing to pay you, Captain Reynolds."

"Then I hope we can come to an accord. Give me an hour, Captain and I'll have an answer for you, one way or t'other."

"Fair enough, Captain Reynolds. _Enterprise _out." The message indicator went dark.

Wash and Mal made their way to the galley, where everyone else was waiting.

"I take it you heard all that?" He asked the assembled crew. Zoe nodded.

"That dragon is going to _pay_ us to help them?" Wash asked in disbelief. "Sounds too good to be true."

"Means it probably is." Mal nodded. "Still, I got parts fallin' off my ship, and a crew what needs payin'. Jobs been mighty thin on the ground lately. Can't hurt to listen to what they got to say. We play this right, we can be free and clear and nobody the wiser."

"We go our way, they go theirs, sir?" Zoe asked.

"Exactly. We get a bit o' platinum, they get info we got in our Cortex databank. Easy money, no complications. Might even get them to toss in a new compression coil." He winked at Kaylee.

"A month?" Inara asked. "Just sitting out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"Well, I know you're pinin' to get to New Melbourne and all those fish-lovin' folks, but seein's how this is a mite risky, not knowing who they are and all, I think it'd be fair to offer you a share. Cause I wanna use you as my ambassador."

"Mal, this is no time for jokes." She said crossly.

"Not jokin', Inara. Called you that afore in jest, no harm meant. But you're the closest thing we got to a real diplomat. Shiny ship like that, shiny folk, I bet a diplomatic type would be real handy to have. Sides, if it turns out we don't need an ambassador, might be folks on that ship could be willin' to do business with you. Bound to be a big crew on a ship that size. And if you don't do it, _I'll _have to do the talkin'. That what you want?"

"_Wo de tian, a." _Inara shuddered. "We want to live through this, Mal! Besides," She said softly, "I wasn't complaining about the time. And I _could_ use some extra coin." Mal opened his mouth and shut it again without saying anything.

"Mal, you believe that Prime Directive business?" Book asked.

"Don't know, Sheppard. Sure would be nice, some folk in the 'verse had that kind o' power that _ain't _out to run other people's lives for 'em."

"_T'ien lung _don't eat fireflies." River said suddenly. "Everybody knows that." She sat in her chair with legs curled under her, smiling softly. It wasn't her dangerous, focused smile Simon was pleased to see.

"And we're supposed to listen to a crazy witch-person why?" Jayne snorted. Simon started to protest but Mal overrode him.

"Jayne, she knew they was planning to show up afore they did." Mal pointed out.

"Yeah? And how exactly did she do that, huh?"

"Magic." River said, giggling. Jayne glared at her.

"All I'm sayin' is it ain't natural what she can do."

"That's a point, certainly. Not a good one, mind, but a point none the less." Mal said. "But the real point is, we stand to make some easy money at not much risk. Sounds like better odds than Niska's jobs. Or Badger, come to that."

"Can we please not mention Niska?" Wash asked plaintively. "That's definitely on my never-ever-do-that-again list."

"Mine too, baby." Zoe seconded, laying her hand on Wash's arm.

"My point bein' this could be good for us. Besides, if they are wolves in sheep's clothin' might be better to be seen to cooperate rather than the alternative." Mal pointed out.

"There is that." Zoe said with a sigh. "Just once it would be nice if we weren't facing overwhelming odds, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, sir."

"That's what makes us _special_, Zoe. So far I ain't heard convincin' arguments that say we should refuse this job. Anybody got one, now's the time."

Mal looked around, waiting. Simon looked at River, who just smiled. Inara was looking pensive, but didn't offer any objections. Book spread his hands but said nothing. Kaylee was grinning widely.

"Does this mean I get to look inside that shiny ship, Captain?" She asked eagerly.

"Maybe, _xiao mei-mei_. If things go like I hope they will."

"Well, hell. If the doc ain't saying nothin', guess I'm in. Likely I'll be bored, though." Jayne snorted again in disgust.

"You know I distinctly remember saying I was bored too, just before the _Enterprise _showed up. Don't tempt Fate, Jayne. Bad idea." Wash warned.

"Well, that just leaves who's going to that absolutely enormous ship, don't it?" Mal said. "I'm thinkin' me, Inara, River, and Book."

"River on that ship?" Simon protested. "Mal you can't!"

"Got no choice, Doctor." Mal replied. "River's a reader, seems like. She knows stuff she shouldn't, stuff ain't possible to know. She's been right more times than not. She knew they was out there afore _Serenity's _own self." He looked Simon square in the eye.

"Might be havin' her there means the difference twixt coming back and not."

Simon settled back, upset but unable to argue Mal's logic. "Just keep her safe, Mal. She's my _sister_."

"I know, doc. But I got a whole boatload o' folks depending on me to keep 'em safe. Your sister among 'em. _Dong ma?"_

"Why am I coming along, son?" Book asked. "Thinking having the Lord on your side might not be such a bad thing?"

"Preacher, I told you. Got no faith in empty houses and pretty words." Mal said. "But should they be thinking ill of us, maybe havin' a Shepherd along'll persuade 'em to second thoughts." Then he grinned.

"Also, you're more than a simple man o' the cloth, preacher. Might be handy, on that ship."

"Now, I want the ones goin' to tidy up a bit. Not too much, mind. Don't want to look like we're comin' hat in hand in our Sunday best. But don't want to track mud all over their clean, shiny floors, neither. _Dong ma? _Just hard workin' clean-cut folks out to lend a helpin' hand and do some business."

"Let's get to it, people." He headed for the bridge.


	6. Ch 6: Bearding The Dragon

Mal flipped the switch on the radio. "_Enterprise, _this is _Serenity._ Come in please."

"_Serenity, _this is _Enterprise._" A deep growly voice answered. It didn't sound happy to hear him. _"_Please stand by for Captain Picard." Mal drummed his fingers, wondering what had upset the large-sounding man on the other end. He sometimes had that effect on people, but it usually took more than a half-dozen words.

Usually.

"_Serenity_, this is Captain Picard." He sounded pleasant and neutral, waiting.

"I've talked it over with my crew, Captain and we'd be delighted to discuss how we might be o' assistance." Mal said cheerfully. "Also, I was wonderin' how such a face-to-face might be arranged. I don't know if my shuttle's lock would seat proper with yours. Be a shame to have a messy accident so early in our acquaintance, _dong ma?_"

"That won't be a problem, Captain Reynolds." Picard assured him. "We have a fully pressurized shuttle bay. How large is your shuttle?"

"Uh, 'bout 10 and a half meters long, 5 wide, and 3 high. That too big?"

"No, that's roughly the size of our cargo shuttles; we'll have no trouble accommodating you."

"Pleased to hear that, Captain. So what do we do? You open the door and we fly in?"

"Standard protocol is to fly to within 250 meters of the bay then cut your engines and let the shuttle be tractored in."

"Some kinda autopilot then?" Mal asked doubtfully. "Can't believe our computers talk the same lingo, Captain. No disrespect."

"No Captain. We have a kind of-crane I suppose you could call it. Except it's made of energy instead of metal. I can assure you it won't damage your shuttle in the slightest. We use it routinely on the most delicate cargos."

"That will be somethin' to see, I expect." Mal said. _A crane made of energy? Who **are** these people?_

"The shuttle bay is located at the back of the saucer section, on top of the ship." Picard said. "The door is surrounded by moving strobe lights, you can't miss it. I suggest your shuttle make its approach above the line of our nacelles, and approach the doors on a 45 degree downward incline. Contact us when your shuttle leaves _Serenity_."

"Uh, come down from above and behind. Got it." Mal responded. "Give us 'bout half an hour to comb our hair and shine our shoes, and we'll be making our hellos in person."

"I'm looking forward to it, Captain Reynolds." Picard said, warmly. "_Enterprise _out."

Mal headed for his quarters, thoughtful. What and _where_ was the Federation? He doubted _Enterprise _was the only ship of her kind. The thought of _one_ ship like that was mind-boggling. Thinking about a whole fleet of them was terrifying.

He wondered what other surprises _Enterprise_ might hold. If he'd heard this story in a bar, he'd have laughed and bought the teller a drink. Tall tales of a tall ship...

Twenty minutes later he and Inara were arguing about who was going to pilot Serenity's second shuttle.

"Mal, I can fly circles around you on your best day." Inara said.

"Yes, but we can't have our ambassador fly her own shuttle. Ain't proper."

"Have you ever made this kind of approach before?" She asked, cocking her head.

"Inara, ain't _nobody_ made this kind of approach afore!" Mal snorted. "'cepting maybe an Alliance gunboat pilot. And, thankfully, we're fresh out of those, case you hadn't noticed."

"Inara, Mal's got a point. If you're our ambassador you should be sitting in one of the rear seats, not the pilot's chair." Book said quietly. "Appearances might be important."

Inara submitted with ill grace. "Just don't crash into their ship, Mal. And _try _not to offend them."

"Not a single cuss word, Inara. Cross my fingers." He grinned, unfazed. She sighed and boarded the shuttle.

"Sheppard, you know how to fly a shuttle?" Mal asked. Book shook his head.

"Sorry."

"No matter. Take the co-pilot chair anyways, I want you watchin' as we make the approach. Four eyes're better'n two. See if you can spot anything peculiar."

River floated past, wearing a red and brown dress that suited her slender figure. Checking her feet, Mal winced. Combat boots. Well, usually she went barefoot so he supposed it was an improvement. Boarding, he settled into the pilot's seat.

"_Serenity_ shuttle to _Enterprise, _come in please." He said cheerfully.

"_Enterprise, _here." That same growly voiced man answered. In the back seat Inara raised an eyebrow.

"Captain Picard said I was to give a shout when I was ready to lift. I should be makin' final approach in a couple of minutes."

"Understood, _Serenity _shuttle. Transferring you to shuttle bay control now."

Inara leaned forward. "Already making friends, I see." She whispered sweetly.

"Not my fault. I've not said a dozen words to that man." He protested, turning his head to speak quietly. He couldn't help noticing her perfume, since her face was inches from his.

"Foo dog growls at everybody. Don't mean nothing by it." River said suddenly. Inara blinked, realizing Mal was still looking at her. Smiling slightly she sat back gracefully. Mal turned around and swallowed as quietly as he could manage, wondering why his collar suddenly felt so tight.

"_Serenity _shuttle, this is Lieutenant Asher. I'm the flight deck officer; I'll be helping you land today." It was an attractive female voice, fairly young, Mal judged. Friendly sounding too.

"Happy for the help, Lieutenant. Ain't never landed on something that big what weren't a planet." Mal joked. A chuckle sounded over the speaker.

"No worries, Captain. Just get your shuttle within 250 meters of the shuttle bay and I'll take it from there. You'll think you landed on a feather bed. Contact me again when you're ready to shut down your engines. _Enterprise, _out."

"Now that was reassurin'." Mal said. "Mite too friendly, maybe?"

"Let's not borrow trouble, Mal." Book said. "Maybe our luck's about to change."

"Hope so, Preacher. Hope so." Hitting several switches Mal started the launch sequence. The shuttle shivered a little and then slid sideways, coming to a slightly jerky stop. Pulling back on the control yoke Mal lifted the shuttle gently away from _Serenity._

He deliberately swung wide around the enormous stranger, wanting as good a view as he could get. In spite of having watched the ship for an hour, he still whistled as he came astern.

"How wide you reckon she is, Preacher?"

"Well, she's widest at the saucer part, so--maybe 450 meters?" Book guessed. "I don't want to think how much she must weigh."

"Ain't never polite to ask a lady her weight." Mal agreed.

"Five million metric tons." River said in her focused voice. "Assuming construction materials similar to our own." Inara turned to look at her, shocked. River smiled, and then chewed on a strand of her hair.

"What?" She asked Inara, innocently.

Mal sat very still. Sometimes River said the most outrageous things in the most lucid way. Mal couldn't say if she was right, but it sounded reasonable.

"Our little bird is a smart girl." He finally managed. "Spooky as all get out--but very smart."

By now the shuttle was about half a kilometer from the _Enterprise_, and directly astern. Mindful of his host's instructions he began to climb gently, keeping the speed well below ten meters per second.

"Mal, look at the base of the tail, in the middle. You see what I see?" Book said quietly. Mal stole a quick glance, and then took a longer look.

"Looks like River's dragon has got some teeth." Mal said quietly. "Well, well, well."

"What is it, Mal?" Inara leaned forward to see.

"Less I miss my guess, that there's some kind of missile launcher." Mal told her, keeping the shuttle moving smoothly. "And if they got one in back, I'm guessin' they got more'n one in front."

"Meaning?" She asked in concern.

"Meanin' maybe they ain't as friendly as they let on." Mal said. "Course, it's a dangerous 'verse. I carry a gun, no reason they shouldn't. Makes me wonder about that Prime Direction thingie, though."

"Prime Directive." Book corrected, still watching the approaching ship, looking for other bits of bad news.

"Yeah. Thing is, you got a big bad ship, what can shoot missiles, maybe that's just a way to save on ammunition, if you get my drift."

"So what do we do?" Inara asked.

"Finish the job. Get paid. Go away quickly." Mal said. "Same as always. Course, I could be wrong. Might be need'n to apologize after all's said and done."

"You really think so?" Inara asked hopefully.

"Nope." Mal said cheerfully. "Ready, girls and boys?" He'd aimed for the swirling square of lights that had to be the shuttle bay doors. He noted with relief they looked to be on the same gargantuan scale as the rest of the ship. He flipped on the radio.

"Lieutenant Asher, this is _Serenity_ shuttle. I'm about 250 meters from your shuttle bay, and I'm cutting my engines."

"Acknowledged, _Serenity _shuttle. Please come to a complete stop relative to the shuttle bay." Her voice had lost some of its friendliness, but gained a professional edge Mal could respect. Sounded like she knew what she was doing."

"Dead in the water, _Enterprise_."

"Confirmed, _Serenity _shuttle. Ok, folks, just sit back and enjoy the ride."

Nothing seemed to happen. Mal was about to speak when Book said.

"We're moving, Mal. Look at the shuttle doors."

Sure enough, the doors were getting closer. They were also rising, and as the strobe lights cut out light from inside the bay spilled out into the black. Mal was about to ask how it was the shuttle was moving when he completely forgot the question.

"Are those _people_?" Mal asked instead, dumbfounded, as he saw a trio of _unsuited_ figures calmly standing exposed to open space. The shuttle slid over what now looked like a metal plain, headed for the square of light that looked just like they'd opened a hole into the middle of their ship.

"They surely are, Mal." Book murmured in disbelief. "Seems like our new friends know a few tricks we don't."

"Looks like." Mal couldn't take his eyes off them as the shuttle slipped into the bay with no theatrics of any kind. He lost sight of them as the shuttle spun gently on its axis and hovered a good two meters off the floor. In front of him the shuttle bay doors slid shut with a soft rumble he could hear through the hull of the shuttle. Which, by rights, he shouldn't have been able to. Troubled by the impossibility he was distracted by the radio.

"Welcome aboard the _Enterprise_, _Serenity_ shuttle." Lieutenant Asher's voice was now perky and mischievous. "Be advised the bay is fully pressurized and has standard gravity. Does your shuttle have landing gear, Captain?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." He hit the switch and felt the thump as the gear locked in place. "Um, gear is down and locked."

"Acknowledged, _Serenity _shuttle. Contact in three, two, one, _now._" Mal heard the sigh as the landing gear took the shuttle's weight Suddenly, he grinned, relieved to feel something familiar.

"Lieutenant, my compliments. You kept your word, just like a feather bed. Nice flying, ma'am."

"Thank you, Captain. If you're still on board at 1800 hours, look me up. I'll be in Ten Forward, anyone can direct you."

"I just might do that, and thank you kindly." Mal said, grinning. He snapped off the radio.

"Sounds like you've made a new friend, Mal. Didn't know you had it in you." Inara said sweetly. Mal winced.

"Ok, final words o' wisdom. Sheppard, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep an eye on River. Don't want her makin' a scene in front of our new friends. Ambassador, do what you do best. Let's be friendly, and a thorn in nobody's side, _dong ma?_"

Inara stepped from the shuttle first, followed by Mal then Book and River. The three people he'd seen waiting for them were coming forward. He took a moment to study them, stepping up beside Inara.

The first was a tall bald older man that Mal immediately pegged as the captain. He had that look of command it took a while to settle into. He was wearing a jumpsuit of glaring red and deep black that Mal just couldn't take seriously. It had to be a uniform, but Mal had never seen anything like it before.

Behind the captain was a short woman in a dark red single color jumpsuit that she filled out rather nicely, Mal couldn't help noticing. Her black hair was styled into elaborate ringlets, Mal wondered if she was the _Enterprise's _version of a Companion.

It was the third member of the trio, dressed in a black and gold jumpsuit that caught and held Mal's attention. It wasn't the man's size, or the fact he had what looked suspiciously like a gun--laser maybe--at his waist. The silvery baldric slung over one shoulder was odd, but Mal had seen odder.

It was his _head_. He was half-bald with short brownish hair. The dark skin Mal could accept, there were all manner of different colored hides in the 'verse, after all. What threw him was the massive bony looking growth on the man's forehead

He felt a poke in the side from Inara's elbow and snapped his eyes back to the captain just as the latter extended a hand.

"Captain Reynolds, I presume?" He said pleasantly.

"In the flesh. I take it you're Captain Picard?" Mal shook hands, feeling the other man's firm handshake. Mal was pleased to see Picard didn't make a squeezing contest out of it.

"I am. May I introduce my crew? This is Deanna Troi, ship's councilor. And Mr. Worf, my chief security officer."

"This here's our ambassador, Inara Serra." Mal returned the courtesy. "Sheppard Book and River."

"Pleased to meet you, Captain Picard." Inara extended a graceful hand. Picard shook it briefly.

"Ambassador Serra, an honor to have you on board. Captain Reynolds, I wasn't aware your vessel was a diplomatic envoy."

"She isn't." Inara replied smoothly. "I'm _Serenity's _ambassador, Captain, not the Alliance's." At his puzzled look she continued. "I'm a registered Companion; I act as an ambassador between _Serenity_ and some of the more insular worlds in the 'verse. Out here it's very common for worlds to bar access to ships that don't have a Companion on board."

"I see." He said, obviously willing to accept her word. "Then may I extend_ Enterprise's _hospitality to you and the crew of _Serenity._ A lovely name for your ship, Captain."

"I think so." Mal said, pleased. Things were going smoothly. _We might just get outa this without getting shot at after all_, Mal thought.

"If you'll come this way, we have some refreshments laid out in the conference room, and then we can get down to business."

"Lead the way. My compliments on Lieutenant Asher's handling of the shuttle, by the way. As smooth a landing as it's ever been my pleasure to be part of."

"I'll be sure to pass your comments on, Captain. The good lieutenant is a credit to the _Enterprise._" Picard replied. Mal noticed that Picard placed himself next to Inara and that the bony-headed Worf brought up the rear of the party. Mal was just slightly twitchy about having a stranger with a maybe-gun at his back, but he'd come through worse. He wasn't really worried. Much.

"So, Captain, what kind of ship is _Serenity_?" The short woman slipped next to him as they walked down what seemed to be a _really _long hallway. As they went they passed crewmembers wearing jumpsuits of black and bright color (mostly red and gold), intent on their own tasks.

"She's a Firefly, a mid bulk transport." He said, looking down at her. He forced his eyes back to her face, sternly telling himself to mind his manners.

"I've never seen a Firefly before. I can tell you're proud of her." Mal nearly stumbled. _Never seen a Firefly afore?_ He thought, stunned. The style was old, but it had been a very successful design, and tens of thousands still flew through the 'verse, even in the Core worlds.

"I am indeed--Councilor was it?" She nodded. "Had her about 5 years now. Picked her up second hand after the war. Been flying her ever since."

"You seem satisfied in your life Captain. That's a rare thing. So few people find their true calling."

"That's a fact." He nodded. They came to a door at the end of the corridor. As they approached it slid aside with a whoosh, revealing a small round compartment that reminded Mal of an elevator. Since Captain Picard and Inara walked in he followed. It was a bit tight with seven people, but not terribly so. He found himself in pleasing proximity to the ship's councilor.

"Conference room 3." Picard said into the air. The elevator began to move smoothly, but Mal felt subtle shifts that told him the elevator had changed directions. It was just a few seconds before the elevator stopped and the door opened. The dark bony headed man lead the way this time, and stepped through one of the doors along the hall. Mal noticed the hallway's curve was sharper here than it had been down below, he guessed they had gone higher in the saucer, maybe only a couple of decks from the top.

When he stepped through the door he almost halted again. Picard's idea of "some refreshments" looked more like the banquet table at a fancy party. Deanna took him by the arm and still chatting about nothing much led him over to the table.

"Are those fresh strawberries?" He asked, looking at the ripe red fruit.

"Yes. But I'd like you to try some of these first. They're called utta berries; they're from my home world." She picked up a small red berry and handed it to him, taking another for herself. Mal tried it cautiously, finding it sweet and tart at the same time.

"Hey, that's _good_." He enthused, taking a small handful. "Taste like the blueberries on Shadow."

"Shadow?" She asked, watching him enjoy himself.

"Where I was born." He said, a small frown chasing across his face at some memory. Then he grinned at her. "To tell you the truth I was a holy terror after blueberries when I was a kid. Snuck into just about every patch 'round my mama's ranch."

She chuckled and they continued their small talk. In spite of himself he found himself relaxing, and for the first time in he couldn't remember when, actually enjoying himself. Maybe, just maybe _Serenity's _luck had turned.

_Or not_, he thought as he saw River put down her plate and head toward Inara and Captain Picard. Book and Worf were talking quietly, and the Shepherd had let his guard down for just an instant. Mal saw it was too late to stop River without making a fuss, he just had to hope against hope she didn't do something stupid.

"_Ni hao t'ien lung yu shen de." _River said to Picard as she bowed.

"I'm sorry River, I don't speak that language." The captain said gently.

"She said hello, Captain." Inara said, smiling. Her eyes twinkled.

"Ambassador, I'm sure that's true." He smiled at Inara. "But that isn't the only thing she said, is it?"

"No." Inara chuckled. "She actually said 'hello, kindly celestial dragon.'"

Picard raised his eyebrows, temporarily nonplused, looking between Inara, who chuckled again and River, who smiled one of her careless smiles. Mal quailed, he knew that look.

"'scuse me a moment, Councilor." He stepped toward River, seeing Book headed there too. Picard, sensing something was up watched them come with a creased brow.

"River, darlin', don't be botherin' the nice Captain, now." Mal said, taking her by the arm. She gave him look that said plainer than words he was being an idiot. He didn't care, he just didn't want her causing a problem, especially _now_.

"Hello, River." Councilor Troi appeared beside Mal. "I don't believe we've met."

"Hello, little bunny." River said quite distinctly. Book stiffened, which worried Mal no end.

"What's a bunny?" Deanna asked, tilting her head.

"Bunny rabbit. Saw you watching me last night." River was focusing on her now. Mal saw Councilor Troi smile, then gasp and take a step back.

"Stay out of my head please. It's too scary for a little bunny rabbit." River said in a cold voice. Then, in one of her mercurial mood swings, she shivered. "Sometimes it's too scary for _me_."

"I feel I may have missed something important just now, Councilor." Picard said quietly.

"River, I'm sorry. I won't do that again." Deanna apologized to the slender teen who nodded and beamed. "Where's the Foo dog?" She turned to Worf who had joined the group. Then to Mal's inward horror she reached out, tracing Worf's bone ridges. She had to rise up on tip toe to do it.

"Not afraid of you, Foo dog. You have a good heart."

"_yIDoghQo'_" Worf made a sound halfway between a growl and clearing his throat, which Mal belatedly realized must be the security officer's native language.

_Don't sound like something a human throat oughta do a lot of. _He thought to himself. He saw Picard cough to cover a bark of laughter. He guessed Picard understood what his officer had just said, and River hadn't insulted their hosts.

"Mr. Worf does indeed have a good heart, River. But it sounds as though it's time to get down to business." He looked at Captain Reynolds. "First, Captain, I feel I must apologize in advance. Let's get comfortable, this may prove to be a very long meeting."

Mal pondered what bad news was about to land on his head now. But he took a seat on one side of the table with his crew while Picard did the same on the other side.

"Mr. Worf, I believe I've monopolized your time long enough, you doubtless have duties that need your attention. Would you tell Mr. La Forge I need him to sit in on this meeting?"

"Aye, Captain." The massively built man left the room. Mal wondered who Mr. La Forge might be. He counted Worf's departure as a good sign, though.


	7. Ch 7: Doing Business

Picard looked at them, debating how to begin. Finally he said, "It seems I have underestimated you, Captain Reynolds and for that I do apologize. I have to walk a fine line between honesty and keeping the Prime Directive during this meeting. The Federation views the Prime Directive with the utmost seriousness--it is the bedrock upon which we conduct First Contact situations like the one we find ourselves in."

"I wish to be frank. We are forbidden by the Prime Directive from sharing our technology with you, and in fact even revealing the existence of some of it. This isn't to protect us--it's to protect your culture. The Federation has made many First Contacts with new civilizations. In the beginning there were--mistakes. Tragedies. Too many civilizations warped by contact with technology and knowledge they simply weren't ready to handle."

"Your civilization is, in many respects, as advanced as our own. In certain areas you are far ahead of us--in others you are ignorant of a technology's very existence. So your civilization represents an unprecedented "gray" area for us. You have interstellar travel--or you wouldn't be in this system. That means we're allowed to contact you. But you lack certain technologies we always assumed were inseparable from interstellar travel. That being said I have to tell you we're not here by choice. We believe our presence here was caused by a trap laid by an enemy."

"Fortunately, we have reason to believe that you are reluctant to deal with the authorities. This is to both our advantage. We gain the knowledge we need to make decisions about how to proceed, while remaining hidden. You gain access to our resources, which should be profitable to you."

"Well, yeah, I'm with you so far. Let me air my suspicions about you, cause turnabout's fair play and all that." Mal said. "You aren't from this system, that's clear enough. Your ship is vast, and you've shown me lots of tricks that break natural laws I didn't know _could_ be broken."

"And that fella, Worf?" Mal said. "Why would it not surprise me to learn he weren't human? If I'm wrong about that, by the way, I do humbly apologize."

Picard pondered a moment, and then sighed. "Mr. Worf is a Klingon, captain. He is not human. In fact, many of my crew aren't. Councilor Troi, for example, is half Betazed. An empath." She shot her captain a quick look, questioning.

"It's alright Councilor. If I'm not mistaken, River is a telepath, is she not? So it appears neither of us has an unfair advantage."

"Well. That's--surprizin'." Mal said into the silence. "Captain Picard, you been straight with me, seems like I'm obliged to return the favor. Yeah, River is a reader. Least ways, we _think_ so. I'd appreciate it if that knowledge don't get spread about--we got enough folk with ill will and deep pockets hunting us cause o' her. Don't need more."

Picard nodded. Mal continued.

"I'd be further obliged if you tell me exactly what you want from my ship and my crew, and what you're offering in return."

"Fair enough." Picard agreed. "Captain, I'm not sure of the exact details, but an individual we know only as Q, a member of a vastly advanced civilization called the Q Continuum, picked up my ship and hurled it through a sub-space rift, a kind of tear in reality. We ended up here. We believe _here_ is, from our point of view, some 40 light years from our last position, _and _153 years into the future, _and_ a different dimension--a kind alternate history if you will."

"Huh." Mal said, impressed. "Captain Picard, meanin' no disrespect, but compared to that, my worst day was just sunshine and roses. I've had more than my share. Got the sunburns and scratches to prove it."

"Indeed, you see our problem."

"I do. What I don't see is how we can help you. I'm not saying I don't want to mind, but with all your advanced technology and this wonder of a ship, how could I _possibly_ help you?"

"We want to copy your databank--all of it. We would like to have your crew provide our specialists with all the little details of your culture. We're used to doing First Contacts. My crew is very good at it. I have overseen several myself. We want to study your ship, your technology."

"And you can do this all in a month?" Mal asked in disbelief.

"I believe so, Captain." Picard said calmly.

Mal sat, watching him. "And what's in it for my crew? Not that I begrudge those in need a bit of help, but I can't afford a month for nothing but the warm glow of a good deed."

Just then the door whooshed open and a thin, fairly young, black man walked into the room. "You sent for me, Captain?"

"Ah, Mr. La Forge. Captain Reynolds, this is Mr. La Forge, my chief engineer."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Captain." The engineer nodded his head. Mal couldn't help looking at his odd glasses; they stretched around his eyes and stopped at his temples.

"Likewise, Mr. La Forge."

"Geordi, we were just discussing what payment we could offer _Serenity_ for their help. I was thinking we could transfer some deuterium to top off their tanks, and perhaps supply replacement parts for any systems in need of repair."

"No problem." The engineer said cheerfully. "I'll need schematics, of course."

"Also, perhaps some raw materials of some kind?" Picard asked. "What are you in need of, at the moment Captain?"

"Well, platinum's always welcome." Mal said with a smile. "Outer planets use it as currency. And some fresh food, if you can spare it, would be much appreciated."

"Fresh food is no problem, Captain. How much platinum do we have on board, Geordi?"

Geordi pursed his lips. Looking up at the ceiling he did some mental calculations. "Well, not a lot. We don't use it for very much. I might be able to scrounge a few hundred kilograms. Is that enough?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mal felt his mouth fall open. A few _hundred. Kilograms_. Of _platinum_. He felt absolutely faint. He tried to convert 300 kilograms to grains in his head. A platinum coin was 1 grain of the precious metal, and it bought a good deal of goods. He'd just been offered millions of grains of platinum for a month's work...

"That should be fine." He said, faintly. Plus a new compression coil for Kaylee. Oh, goodie. Plus a full tank of gas. He felt hollow, like the world was about to fall on him.

His luck was never this good. Ever. Luck like this simply didn't exist.

"Oh, and of course I'd like to extend our hospitality to your crew. We have several recreational facilities on board that we'd be happy to share while you're with us." Picard said.

_And knowing this ship, they probably have a beach, complete with waves for surfing, _Mal thought. The rest of the meeting went by in a daze.

It wasn't until Picard mentioned changing course his attention snapped back.

"I'm sorry?" He asked, feeling stupid.

"I said we need to change course. The _Enterprise _can tow your vessel with a tractor beam if you want to save fuel."

"Tractor beam meanin' the thing that pulled our shuttle on board?" He asked. Picard nodded.

"Exactly. We can use the _Enterprise_ to slow both ships so we don't end up on Chara VI half way through."

"No, can't have that. People'd be bound to talk." Mal said. "You sure my ship'll come to no harm? It's one thing to pull a shuttle at a few meters per second, it's another to slow down a ship travellin' as fast as we are."

"We've done this lots of times Captain, but if it will make you feel better I'll travel on _Serenity _during the tow to monitor stress levels." La Forge assured him.

"Mighty kind of you, Mr. La Forge. Must say it eases my mind, you willin' to ride in my ship like that. Man wouldn't do that lest he was stone-cold certain."

"Captain Picard to the bridge." A voice spoke from the brooch on the Captain's chest. Picard tapped the brooch.

"What is it, Number One?"

"We've detected a small ship headed straight for us, travelling pretty fast. She's at .3c and decelerating hard. She'll be here in under an hour. Sensors indicate a crew of two. She's about a third the mass of _Serenity,_ and heavily armed, looks like particle beam cannons, ion disruptors, and carrying missiles. Captain, the missiles have fission warheads."

"Blast. We don't have time to complete the course change. Go to yellow alert, Number One. Move to place us between the newcomer and _Serenity_, tune the shields to block their EM pulse sensors. Extend our shields around _Serenity_ as well."

"Aye, Captain. But they know we're here, they're on an intercept course."

"Two by two, hands of blue..." River crooned. "Bad men, coming to take me away, back to the dark place. Bunny rabbit, what do you see?"

"Councilor?" Picard asked Deanna, who had a distant look on her face.

"I sense cold purpose, Captain." She said at last. "Focused and implacable. The last time I felt something like this was when we encountered the Borg. I can't sense anything else, they're too far away." She looked Picard in the eye. "Captain, they want _Serenity. _I don't know why, but I fear it isn't good."

"Captain Reynolds, whoever these newcomers are I assure you your ship is safe. Our shields can withstand anything that ship can throw at us, and we've extended them to include _Serenity_. I recommend you contact your ship and let them know what's going on. I believe there's time for you to return to your ship if you'd prefer."

"Captain's place is on his ship. I'd be obliged though if these three can stay with you till the fightin's done." Mal said, standing.

"Hopefully there won't be a fight, Captain. Your companions may certainly stay aboard _Enterprise _as our guests for as long as necessary."

"Mal--" Inara began.

"Inara, all due respect to your ambassadorship, looks like this may turn into a dust up. You, River, and Book ain't exactly my first choice to put in the middle of a fight."

"Of course." She conceded. "You will be careful?"

"Mrs. Reynolds didn't raise no fools, Inara. I'll be as careful as they let me. Little bird, you be good and mind Inara, _dong ma?_" River nodded.

"Shepherd, seems to me you'll be more use here than you would be on board _Serenity._" Mal said gruffly. Book nodded.

"I believe so, Mal. I would offer my prayers for your safety, but I know how you feel about that."

"I'll take those words in the spirit offered, preacher, and thank you kindly." Mal said.

"Captain, whatever you do, keep your ship within half a kilometer of the _Enterprise. _Our shields can only extend so far, and the further we extend them the weaker they become."

"It might help if I knew how you were going to maneuver, Captain. I have a funny feeling _Enterprise _is a lot faster than _Serenity, _and a mite more agile to boot."

"I won't be moving at all, Captain Reynolds. I'd suggest bringing your ship within a hundred meters of the shuttle bay, stay above the line of the nacelles. Our main impulse engine is halfway between the saucer section and the lower hull. If we have to move I want you out of the path of the engine exhaust."

"I'd rather not be deep fried my own self, Captain. I thank you for the heads up. Now if you'll excuse me I've got a ship to see to."

"Councilor, would you please escort Captain Reynolds back to his shuttle? Geordi, could you show River and Sheppard Book to guest quarters? Ambassador Serra, if you'll please accompany me to the bridge, I could use your expertise in local matters."

"Of course, Captain."


	8. Ch 8: Under Mama’s Wings

Mal took such large strides Deanna had to half run to keep up with him. He seemed to remember the way, once they left the turbo-lift, and she had little breath for conversation at any rate. The bay doors were rolling upward as they entered the shuttle bay.

"Good luck, Captain. Stay close and your ship will be fine." She said. He just nodded grimly and headed for his shuttle. Once onboard he flipped on the radio as the shuttle came to life around him.

"Wash, come in Wash."

"Mal, what's going on? Enterprise just moved. She's facing away from us and it looks like she's trying to protect us from something. That can't be good."

"Looks like Alliance has found us, they got some kind'a hunter-killer headed our way, sounds right nasty." Mal watched as his shuttle cleared the bay doors.

"_Serenity _shuttle you are cleared to launch." Lieutenant Asher's voice cut off Wash's curse.

"Launching now, _Enterprise_." He pushed the throttles forward, pulling the shuttle's nose up, mindful not to get too far away from the ship, wary of those shields Picard had mentioned. "Wash, I'll be down in about 20 seconds, once I'm onboard, move _Serenity _about a hundred meters from the shuttle bay. Make sure you stay above the line of those nacho things sticking outta her lower hull. They're engines of some kind and our hosts say their tailpipe's about halfway up the neck of this beast. Got that?"

"Got it. I see you coming, Mal. Tell me when the shuttle locks in. Then please get the hell up to the bridge and tell me what's going on. Sir." He added belatedly. Mal brought the shuttle down fast, feeling the autopilot applying corrections. The platform shuddered a bit and then started withdrawing, pulling the shuttle into its alcove on _Serenity's _side.

Mal was out of the pilot's seat even before the green light over the airlock lit. He was on the bridge in under a minute. Zoe was standing behind Wash's chair. She turned and said.

"Welcome back sir. Shall I assume things went as smoothly as always?"

"Seems like. We got an Alliance hunter-killer bearing down on us, looks like they'll be here in about half an hour, maybe less. Oh, and Zoe the HK's got nukes."

"_Wo de ma he ta de fengkuang de waisheng dou!_ They got nukes?" Wash exclaimed. "We are so dead."

"We made a deal with _Enterprise_, looks like their captain wants to make sure we're still around to hold up our end of it, Wash." Mal said. "What I seen on that ship, I'm betting his confidence is not misplaced. I left Inara, River, and Book on there with them, which ought to tell you how much trust I got in him."

"_Enterprise _may make it sir, but what about us? One nuke can ruin your whole day." Zoe said, outwardly calm. Mal, who had known her for years, had no trouble seeing how very un-calm she was.

"Picard says they got something called shields, they extended 'em around _Serenity_. We're as safe as a chick under its mama's wings." Mal said. He hoped his confidence wasn't misplaced, times like this he sort of envied Sheppard Book.

"He says he ain't gonna maneuver, and to stay about a hundred meters from the shuttle bay. Long as we do that, we're shiny."

"_Enterprise _to _Serenity_." Captain Picard's voice came over the radio.

"Mal, _Enterprise _is sending visual as well." Wash said. Zoe and Mal moved over to the video screen.

"I hear you, _Enterprise_." Mal said. A picture of Picard standing next to Inara appeared on the screen.

"Captain, the bogey has changed its deceleration curve. We estimate ETA six minutes. Councilor Troi informs me she senses an increased level of violent intent coming from the crew on that ship. It's very possible they intend to do a high speed flyby and launch a missile spread in an attempt to destroy _Serenity_ rather than board her. They may or may not realize a second ship is present."

"Sounds like." Mal agreed glumly. "Can you do somethin' about those nukes? Otherwise, anybody not wearing _really_ good sun block is gonna have a powerful bad day. And we're fresh out."

"We can deal with the missiles. If one gets through our point defense, the shields will hold."

"What happens if two get through?" Zoe asked, deadpan.

"Our shields could absorb the full salvo from that ship, even weakened as they are by extending them around you." Picard replied confidently. "Neither _Enterprise_ nor _Serenity_ are in any real danger."

"Oh, goodie." Wash said faintly from the pilot's seat.

"Mal--" Inara began, then stopped.

"Don't fuss, Inara. We're shiny." Mal said confidently. _I do hope._ He added silently.

The minutes ticked away, Picard patched through a plot of the approaching ship. At 30 seconds a calm voice announced.

"Bogey has launched a spread of 12 missiles, estimated total yield 20 megatons. Targets locked, commencing phaser fire."

Distracted by a red glow out the window, Mal watched two patches of fire race around the top of the saucer. An eye-piercing beam of brilliant red lanced away from the ring, into the distance. A second beam, perhaps from under the saucer joined it. He got the impression the beam pulsed but he couldn't be sure. It was all over in two seconds.

"Radiation readings consistent with destruction of all twelve missiles. Bogey is still on an intercept course. 20 seconds to intercept."

"_Enterprise _is military." Zoe said flatly. "Nobody else is that calm under fire--or that well armed."

"Yeah. What was that? Laser?"

"No sir. Lasers are invisible, you know that. Didn't they call it a phaser?" Zoe asked.

"Ten seconds to intercept. Another twelve missile spread, firing." The scarlet lance seared again. This time Mal was sure he saw flashes as the missiles exploded. Too close.

"Target is breaking hard; it appears they intend a short-range fight. Another missile spread, firing."

"How many missiles are on that gorram ship?" Mal asked, offended. This time at least one missile got through. There was an almighty flash through the bridge windows. Mal threw up his hands, but was still dazzled.

"We should be dead, sir." Zoe commented. "Or at least blind. I guess their shields blocked most of the light as well as the blast."

"You think?" Mal muttered, blinking furiously as tears blurred his vision.

"Target is within two thousand kilometers, and will pass overhead of the _Enterprise." _The calm voice continued. "Shields at 99.6 percent, _Enterprise _has sustained no damage."

"They have fired several particle cannon beams, as well as a gigawatt laser."

Mal winced. That calm voice was talking about hot death aimed straight at _him_. Seemed like it ought to sound more excited...

"Mal look!" Wash exclaimed. Around them a curve of translucency appeared, with several bright points roving just over _Serenity_.

"Gorram _zang huo_ firing on my ship!" Mal exclaimed angrily.

"Again, sir." Zoe observed.

"Again! _Enterprise, _they're trying to fry my ship!"

"Calm yourself Captain. Your ship is safe. Thanks to our shields their weapons are nothing more than a light show." Picard spoke calmly. Mal _hated _that. He was of the firm opinion you should get _excited_ when people tried to kill you.

"Mal, is everybody all right over there?" Inara asked anxiously.

"Shiny, Inara." Mal answered. "Captain Picard's as good as his word. How 'bout you?"

"Nobody hurt over here."

"Mr. Worf, I'm tired of that ship shooting at us. Target their weapons emitters."

"Targets locked sir." A growly voice said.

"Fire." This time the fire came from the ring on the saucer, and two more beams joined it from a different point on the saucer and it looked like two _more _beams emerged from somewhere behind _Serenity_.

The light play stopped.

"Weapons emitters destroyed Captain." There was satisfaction in the low rumble.

"Finally. Mr. Data, damage report on the attacking vessel."

"Their weapons emitters are destroyed, sensors show their missiles are depleted. Engines and life support undamaged. Sir, the ship has turned and is accelerating directly toward us. Impact in 15 seconds.

"Are they insane? Mr. Worf, hail them!"

"No response, sir."

"Impact in 10 seconds." The calm voice reported. "If they ram, Captain our weakened shields may allow them to penetrate."

"All emergency power to the upper shield array. Bring it down as close to Serenity as you dare, Mr. Worf."

"Aye, Captain."

"Impact in 3 seconds."

Mal just had time to duck and cover his head before another flash lit the bridge, this time it was an angry deep red, not white or scarlet. But the light faded without further incident.

"What happened?" Mal asked. "Are we dead?"

"The enemy vessel has disintegrated, Captain." Mr. Data's calm voice replied. "Radiation levels are falling rapidly. It appears they rigged their reactor core to explode, but it failed to do so because they impacted before the core went critical."

"You mean they was a livin' _bomb_?" Mal squawked. "Man could have nightmares about that!"

"Indeed. Captain Reynolds, are you and your crew all right? Is your ship damaged?"

"Let me get back to you on that, _Enterprise_, soon as I know for sure." Mal said. "At first glance everything looks shiny, but I need a few minutes."

"Acknowledged. Let us know if we can help_. Enterprise _out."

Mal switched over to the intercom. He tried the engine room first.

"Kaylee, you ok, _mei-mei_?"

"Sure, Captain." Kaylee's cheerful voice. "What's all the fuss about? Did you make a deal with _Enterprise_?"

"Looks like, Kaylee. We just had a little excitement, I need you to check _Serenity _over, make sure she took no hurt."

"No hurt? You been being mean to her, Captain?" Kaylee's voice sharpened.

"Not me, _mei-mei._ Looks like the Alliance sent somebody after us, but _Enterprise _punched their ticket. Just want to make sure no debris dinged us, is all."

"No problem, Captain. I'll start checking right now."

"'preciate that Kaylee. Let me know if you find somethin'." He switched to the sickbay. "Doctor, come in."

"Simon here." He said immediately. _He was right by the com panel. _Mal realized. _Musta thought somebody'd get hurt._ _Course, given our luck of late that's no crazy thought._

"First, just let me just say nobody got hurt. In fact, everything's just shiny, doctor. But I was wondering if you noticed anything just now? Clanging noise, maybe? Hiss of leakin' air?"

"No, nothing like that. Why?"

"Well, seems the Alliance sent a hunter-killer after you and your sister. Our new and _very _friendly hosts managed to protect our hides and I was just making sure that last pass didn't sneak any debris through."

"What? Where _are _you?" Simon's voice was suddenly very suspicious.

"On the bridge." Mal answered, knowing exactly what the next question would be and perversely taking pleasure in waiting for it.

"Where are the others?" _Yup. _Mal thought to himself.

"Still on board the _Enterprise_ Doctor. And before you be gettin' all huffy, your sister is safe. That hunter-killer had thirty-six_ nuclear_ missiles aboard. Under the circumstances I thought River and the others stayin' there was the best way to keep 'em in one piece. _Dong ma?_"

There was a long pause. "_Shi_." Simon said heavily. "When can I go see her?"

"Doctor, River's just fine. Book's with her. If things go as planned, we'll be with the _Enterprise _for about a month."

"When does anything on this ship go as planned?" Simon signed in resignation. "Can we trust them, Mal?"

"They just stood up and took a bullet for us, Doctor." Mal said quietly. "That hunter-killer fired every gorram nuke she had at us. Enterprise protected us from that, from the cannon fire they sent our way after, not to mention a crazy suicide ramming. So you tell me Doctor. Can we trust them?"

"They did _what?"_ Simon asked, aghast. Mal wasn't sure if the doctor meant the hunter-killer crew or the _Enterprise_.

"We can trust them, doctor. River's safer right now than she's been since she left your folks. They're good folk."

"Who's good folk?" Jayne asked, walking into the bridge. "Didn't know you was back, Mal. Ain't seen none of the others, neither."

"That's because they're still on _Enterprise_, Jayne." Mal said, slumping into the copilot's seat. "And you just slept through a small war. Why do I pay you again?"

"War? What war?" Jayne asked, confused. "Thought you said no guns." He glanced out the window. "Why's _Enterprise _showing us her tail? And what in blazes is _that?" _He was staring at something that had just lodged against one of the bridge windows.

"That would be a hand, Jayne." Wash said in that quiet voice one uses just before screaming. "Mal why is there a blue hand cuddled up to the window?"

"Two by two, hands of blue..." Mal murmured to himself.


	9. Ch 9: Making Lemonade

"Huh. Guess there was a war after all. Nobody told _me_." Jayne said in an aggrieved tone.

"It was a very short war." Mal said, looking at the hand. "As to why it's on the window, Wash I truly have no idea."

"Well, can you get rid of it? It's creepy." The pilot complained.

"You're the pilot. We got wipers ain't we?" Mal asked.

"Yeah, but we gotta be in atmo to use them." Wash replied.

"Jane, go suit up and collect our friend out there, before Wash faints, would you?" Zoe asked. Jayne snickered, too amused to be irritated by the order.

"And don't bring that thing inside, neither! Chuck it into the black!" Mal called after Jayne's retreating back.

"Spoilsport." Jayne yelled back, laughing.

"Simple pleasures for simple minds." It was the only thing Wash could think to retort. Even as he said it he realized how lame it was. Smirking, Mal picked up the mike.

"_Enterprise, _this is _Serenity_." Mal turned to Wash. "Get ready to lift us away once we get the all clear. _Serenity _ain't meant to snuggle this close to another ship."

"_Serenity, _this is Captain Picard. What is your status?"

"Shiny as a new penny, Captain. And I thank you on behalf of me and my crew, 'cause if it weren't for you that hunter-killer would have been the end of us."

"You're welcome _Serenity_. Any idea who sent it?"

"Well, it's a big 'verse and truth to tell there's some folks in it what don't like me too much. But I 'spect they was probably after River."

"Why target a young girl?" Picard asked, puzzled. "Surely telepaths aren't _that_ valuable. Besides they were trying to kill you, not capture you."

"If I knew the answer to that, Captain, I would surely sleep better at nights." Mal said with feeling. "Mayhaps they detected your ship and thought if they couldn't have her nobody could."

"How utterly barbaric." Picard said, clearly offended.

"Can't argue with you there, Captain." Mal said. "The ambassador can wrap it up in prettier words, but the plain truth is there are evil folk in the 'verse, and seems most of 'em is chasin' after River. Don't rightly know why, 'cept they're making my life a pure misery."

"Can't you go to the authorities?" Picard asked. "Surely they would want to stop whoever's behind this?"

Mal hesitated for a moment. "Captain, you done saved me and mine, so I gotta be straight. The authorities _made_ River the way she is. They cut on her brain, till all that was left is what she is now. Leastways that's the story her brother gave us. He gave up everything to save his sister from some academy the Alliance set up for doing what they done to her. Others too, I expect."

Picard was silent for a long moment. When he spoke there was an edge to his voice. "That is _monstrous_, it's completely _unacceptable_. Captain Reynolds, this ship has the finest medical facilities in Starfleet. If you like, Dr. Crusher can examine River. Perhaps we can do something for her."

"I appreciate the offer, _Enterprise_, but I ain't the one to make that choice. I'll pass it on to her brother though. Likely he'll jump at it."

"Brother?" Picard asked.

"Yeah, my ship's doctor." Mal replied, reflecting on the words_ Starfleet_. _So they are military. No surprise there, _he thought. "I don't reckon you know whether we can expect more company?" Mal asked hopefully.

"Actually, Captain, I'm happy to report there are no ships vectoring in our direction at the moment. But it might be a good idea to start our course change preparations immediately. Mr. La Forge has completed the stress analysis on _Serenity_. As we suspected there's no danger using our tractor beam to tow you. If you'd care to transport him to your ship, he'll be ready shortly. He'll travel with you while the course change is underway. We calculate it should take less than an hour."

"I got a man EVA checking for damage, _Enterprise_." Mal said, noting Jayne clambering down the front of _Serenity's _bridge. Jayne plucked the hand from its resting place and with a grimace hurled it away. The last Mal saw of it was a spec vanishing in the distance.

"Soon as he's back onboard I'll come fetch Mr. La Forge. Just as a matter of interest, where's the new course takin' us?"

"Below the plane of the ecliptic. To an area of clear space, free of ship traffic and other hazards." Captain Picard said. "Once we're done we'll simply tow you back toward your destination. Since you'll be coming in on a different vector you should avoid any unwanted company."

"Sounds good to me." Mal said. "My mechanic's been itchin' to see the inside of your ship. Mind if I bring her along? I can bring River's brother too."

"I don't see why not." Picard answered. "We can let your doctor consult with ours during the course change, and give you a short tour of the ship. You do understand there are some areas we can't show you?"

"Got no problem with that. Course, Kaylee might pout a bit, but she'll mind her manners." Malcolm chuckled. "That girl's plumb loco about ships. Got a gift for machines."

"Then I believe I have the perfect officer to conduct the tour." Picard said with a chuckle. Mal exchanged a puzzled look with Zoe.

"Like I said, let me secure my crewman then we'll be right over. Oh, would you let my pilot know when it's safe to move _Serenity? _Having her this close to _Enterprise _makes me a mite nervous."

"We've dropped our shields, _Serenity_, you are free to maneuver." Picard said. "Normal towing position is about a kilometer directly astern and just below the lower hull section."

"Roger that, _Enterprise._" Wash spoke up. "I'll move us as soon as Jayne's back on board."

"Very good, _Serenity_. Captain Reynolds, I look forward to meeting you again."

"We'll be right over, Captain. And thanks again for watchin' our backs."

"Glad to be of assistance, Captain. _Enterprise _out."

"You want five of our crew off the ship at the same time, sir?" Zoe asked. Mal turned to look at her in surprise.

"What, you don't trust 'em? After that fireworks show?"

She hesitated. "_Enterprise _did right by us, sir. I guess Jubal Early's still preying on my mind. Seems that hunter-killer found us awful easy. Think they paid the bounty hunter to flush us out?"

"Probably." Mal admitted. "Still, Lady Luck is smilin' on us. Best not spit in her face."

"No, sir." Zoe said. "Still, I think I'll be packing while their engineer's on board. Just to ease my mind."

"Be polite." Mal said, smiling. "No need to make him feel unwelcome. We're going to be working with these people for a month."

"Yes, sir."

He was about to call Kaylee when she came onto the bridge.

"Serenity's all shiny, Captain." She reported. "Looked for any dings like you said. Nothing what weren't there before."

"That's what I like to hear _mei-mei_." Mal answered. "Got a treat for you, if you've a mind. How'd you like to visit _Enterprise_ with me and the Doctor? Captain Picard's offered us a short tour."

Kaylee squealed like a little girl, throwing her arms around Mal and hugging him tight. "Such a _nice_ captain you are, giving a girl presents!" She was smiling, that broad smile that lit up a room. Mal smiled back.

"I'm a mean old man and you know it, Kaylee. Speaking o' which, Captain Picard says they got some Prime Detective that says they gotta keep some of their tech secret from us. I want you to behave yourself. No pryin' where you ought not."

"Aw, that's no fun!" Kaylee protested.

"Gotta promise if you want to see the inside of that ship, Kaylee." He said, mock sternly. Biting her lip, she nodded.

"If I gotta. What's it like in there? I'll bet it's so clean you could see your face in the bulkheads."

"Well, I got to see their shuttle bay. And a hallway. Oh, and an elevator and a conference room." He winked. "And Councilor Troi had me try something called utta berries, I think she said. Looked like cranberries, tasted like the blueberries back on Mama's ranch. But they got fresh strawberries too."

"Think they might spare us some if we asked real nice?" Kaylee said with wide eyes. She loved strawberries, but usually only got to taste them every couple of years. Fresh fruit was a rare luxury out on the edge.

"Better'n that." Mal broke into a wide grin. "Captain said they could spare us some fresh food as supplies. Seems they eat well on that ship. _And_ they're paying us handsomely for our troubles, too.

"Sounds like our luck's finally changed." Kaylee said. "Bout time."

"I hear that, _mei-mei._" Mai picked up the mike.

"Doctor, can you meet me by shuttle two?"

"What's up, Captain?"

"_Enterprise_ offered to let you consult with their doctor 'bout River during the course change. If their sickbay is like the rest of yonder ship, might be a powerful good idea."

Mal waited. Finally, Simon said.

"All right. It certainly can't hurt. I'll be right there."

Jayne came onto the bridge. "Ok, Wash, I got rid of the boogey man for ya." He was in a good mood. "Hey Mal, you made a deal with 'em yet? What's the pay?"

"I don't think you can count that high, Jayne." Mal said. That got everyone's attention. "Kaylee, refresh my memory. How many grains is in a kilogram?"

"Um, fifteen thousand four hundred and some change, I think." Kaylee asked. "Why?"

"Jayne, you like fresh fare?" Mal asked.

"Course. Better'n gorram protein anyways."

"Well, aside from saving our _pigu_ just now, they've offered us fresh food as supplies, and a considerable amount of platinum."

"Oh yeah? How considerable?"

"We measure platinum in grains, _zheng?" _Mal asked, mouth crooked, trying to hold in a smile.

"Yeah, so?" Jayne asked impatiently.

"They measure it in _kilograms_." Mal said, watching his crew. It was worth it. Zoe's eyebrows actually raised a bit, Wash and Kaylee both looked like they'd been pole-axed. Jayne looked puzzled.

"What'cha mean kilos?"

"As in, they think they can scrounge up a few hundred kilos of platinum for us." Mal said, deadpan.

"You're funnin' us." Jayne accused him, grinning. Mal shook his head. Jayne's grin slowly faded. "You _serious?_"

"Yup." Mal said.

"Damn." Jayne breathed. It was as close to reverence as Mal had ever heard him come. Two things Jayne Cobb held a deep and abiding affection for. One was his gun Vera, the other was obscenely large amounts of money.

"Who we gotta kill?" Jayne asked, suddenly animated.

"Doesn't the word _few_ usually mean at least three?" Wash asked in a distant voice. Kaylee was wide-eyed, shocked silent.

"I do believe it does." Mal nodded.

"How much money is three hundred kilos of platinum?" Wash asked. "Just out of idle curiosity."

"Over four and a half million." Zoe said. Mal blinked. He hadn't actually _thought _about how many grains were in three hundred kilos. _Now_ he was thinking about it...

"We could buy a new compression coil." Kaylee said, and then started to giggle.

"Oh, forgot to mention it. They're letting us have any spare parts we need. Seems like they can machine 'em up if they got specs." Mal said. Kaylee stared at him, her face pale. He thought she was going to faint.

"You ok, Kaylee? You look a mite peaked." Mal asked.

"I just had a vision of a hold full of spare parts, Captain." Kaylee said. "I ain't ever _seen_ that many new spare parts in one place.

"Don't get greedy, _mei-mei_." Mal said. "We don't want to wear out our welcome, _dong ma?_"

"Aye, Captain. But I can have the new compression coil?" She asked hopefully. He nodded, grinning. She whooped.

"Kaylee, the Doctor's waiting for us. Time to scoot." Mal said. Kaylee literally skipped out of the bridge, singing.

"_Aiya!_ Mal, that girl was too gorram cheerful before. Now it'll be like living with Susie Sunshine all the time." Jayne complained.

"What can I say? New engine parts make her giddy." Mal tossed over his shoulder, grinning as Jayne's grumbling faded in the distance. He came upon Kaylee and the doctor locked in a tight hug. He cleared his throat theatrically.

"Oh, Captain." Simon tried to extricate himself but Kaylee wasn't having it, bouncing up and down and giggling madly. She finally let go and whirled to face Mal.

"We're getting' a new compression co-ill!" She caroled, clapping her hands. Mal just shook his head and opened the shuttle's lock. Kaylee, grinning like a loon jumped onboard and started strapping herself in. The doctor moved more tranquilly.

"I take it our new friends have offered us spare parts?" Simon said as Mal started powering up the shuttle.

"Seems like." Mal said. "Said they can make us whatever part we need, long as we have the schematics for it."

"Wonder if they have medical supplies they'd be willing to share?" Simon asked.

"You can ask their doctor when you see him." Mal said. "Now let me get this bird in the air, before _mei-mei _vibrates us into pieces."

"I heard that." Kaylee said from her seat.

The shuttle lifted easily, and Mal took her straight up. Simon whistled as they approached _Enterprise_.

"That is the biggest ship I have ever seen." Simon said. Kaylee was hanging between their seats, taking in every detail.

"Three engines, Captain. See? One on the middle of the neck, and two at the edge of the dish on top." Kaylee commented.

"I think they call that the saucer section, Kaylee." Mal said.

"What's the two long pods sticking up outta the lower part?" Kaylee asked.

"Captain Picard called 'em nacelles. Like the ones on _Serenity_ I guess." Mal answered. Kaylee shook her head.

"No way, Captain. There's no exhaust ports on 'em. Those ain't engines." She considered them as the shuttle passed above and between the two gigantic structures. "They don't look like people spaces, no windows, see? Must be machinery, but I have no idea what kind. This is one weird beastie. But oh, so _shiny_."

"Better not let _Serenity _hear you, Kaylee. She might get jealous. Think you found a new ship to love." Mal teased her.

"No worries. _Serenity's _my home." Kaylee said absently. "But this, _tian a! _This is a miracle, Captain. A _t'ien lung_ like River said."

"It's like a _city_." Simon said softly. "A city in space."

"Lots bigger'n an Alliance cruiser, even. Bet its bigger'n some skyplexes too." Kaylee said. Mal brought the shuttle to a smooth halt and flipped on the radio.

"_Serenity_ shuttle to _Enterprise _shuttle bay." He said. They must have been waiting, because the reply was immediate.

"_Serenity_ shuttle this is Lieutenant Asher. Hello again."

"Hello, Lieutenant. Ready to serve up one of your featherbed landings?" Mal asked, nearly flirting.

"No problem, Captain. Are your engines down?"

"They are, _Enterprise. _Ready to come aboard, at your pleasure." There was a chuckle over the radio. As before the shuttle doors rolled upward, spilling light out into space.

"_Cai bu shi!"_ Kaylee gasped. "Captain, those people! They-they-they're just _standing _there! How are they just _standing_ there?"

Simon was too shocked to say anything, his eyes bugging out as he watched two figures standing unconcernedly while the shuttle approached the bay.

"_Enterprise_ has some tricks we don't." Mal said, enjoying the look on their faces. _I am a cruel man_, he thought to himself, grinning.

"Wait, how are we moving?" Kaylee asked abruptly as the shuttle slid into the bay. As before it spun gently on its axis. Prepared this time, Mal lowered the gear.

"Gear is down and locked, darlin'." Mal drawled. The shuttle settled gently on its landing gear.

"Quite the charmer, aren't you, Captain?" The lieutenant's voice was light and cheerful.

"I aim to please, ma'am." He was definitely in strange mood, he thought.

"Welcome aboard, _Serenity_ shuttle. You are cleared to disembark. Lieutenant Commander Data and Dr. Crusher are waiting for you."

"Another fine landing, Lieutenant. My compliments. _Serenity _shuttle out." He turned to find Kaylee staring at him.

"What?" He asked.

"I heard that." Kaylee sniffed.

"Heard what?" He asked, baffled.

"You was _flirtin'_, Captain!" She accused indignantly.

"Well, only a bit. You ready to see this fine shiny ship now?" Mal asked, a bit uncomfortable. Simon snickered as he and Kaylee stepped out. Mal followed.

Captain Picard wasn't there, nor was Councilor Troi. This time an albino man in gold and black and a red haired woman in blue and black awaited them.

"Greetings. I am Lieutenant Commander Data." The man extended his hand. Mal shook it, noticing how cool the man's hand was. _Amber eyes. _Mal realized. Not an albino then. "Captain Picard sends his regrets and asked me to give you a tour of the ship since his duties have called him away."

There was something odd about the man, but Mal couldn't place it. _Talks fancy, though. Well, they all do, really._

"Hi. I'm Beverly Crusher, the chief medical officer." The woman shook his hand. She seemed pleasant enough, but a bit young to be the head doctor, or so Mal judged.

"I'm Captain Malcolm Reynolds. This here's my ship's doctor, Simon Tam."

"Pleased to meet you, Doctor." Simon said, stepping forward. Dr. Crusher nodded, smiling.

"And this is my ship's mechanic, Kaylee Frye."

"Everybody calls me Kaylee, Doctor." Kaylee smiled one of her magical smiles.

"Then call me Beverly, Kaylee." Dr. Crusher smiled at the beaming girl. "Data, why don't you give Captain Reynolds and Kaylee the tour while I show Dr. Tam our sickbay?"

"Of course, Doctor. Captain, Miss Frye, if you would follow me. I believe our first stop should be the hydroponics section on deck 8, the crew often use it as a recreation and picnic area."

"Your name's kinda unusual." Kaylee took up position on Data's left. "Almost sounds like a computer."

"You are correct, Miss Frye." Data spoke calmly, leading the way to the elevator Mal remembered from before.

"Call me Kaylee. What do you mean, Mr. Data?"

"Kaylee, then. You may call me Data." The albino said. "My father was Dr. Noonien Soong, a noted cyberneticist. He named me Data."

"A cyber-whatsis?" Mal asked, confused. He'd never heard of it.

"Cybernetics is the science of computing, robotics, and artificial intelligence, Captain." Data answered, walking into the elevator. "Deck 8." He spoke into the air. The elevator started to move. Kaylee smiled, voice recognition was common in the core worlds, but on the frontier it was seldom used.

"So your dad named you Data because he worked in computers?" Mal asked. Data shook his head.

"No, sir. He named me Data because my programming lacked emotional subroutines. He deliberately excluded them from my design." Kaylee's eyes widened. Mal blinked, unable to parse what Data had just said.

"You're a _robot?"_ Kaylee exclaimed. Data shook his head.

"No, Kaylee. I am an android." Mal froze.

"Android--meanin' a mechanical man?" Mal asked in disbelief.

"I believe that is the literal meaning, yes." Data replied calmly. "In some ways it is also quite accurate, if one replaces _man _with _person_._" _The elevator stopped and the doors whooshed open. Data led the two suddenly quiet humans down the hall.

"My body is mechanical. I have servos instead of muscles, titanium alloy in place of bones, and so on. However, I am a sentient being with all the rights afforded to persons. This was firmly established in a Federation court approximately a year ago."

"Wait, you had to prove you were a _person?_" Kaylee asked, obviously upset.

"Yes. Fortunately my Advocate was quite skilled, and my shipmates testified on my behalf. Along with my own testimony the court was persuaded that I was indeed a person. It was very--satisfying. I constantly endeavor to understand humanity, in some sense to become human. I believe that trial was a step toward my goal."

"Lot of androids in the Federation then?" Mal said. "That verdict must have been a comfort to 'em."

"I am one of three androids Dr Soong created. To my knowledge there are no others, only myself, my brother, and my mother."

"Your mother?" Kaylee asked, curious. Data nodded.

"Yes, my father lost his wife Juliana some years before my design. He created an android version of her."

"That's terrible!" Kaylee exclaimed, and then clapped her hands over her mouth. "Data, I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"

"It is all right. Although I do not understand why, many people share your reaction. My father told me that his wife and my mother had distinct personalities. Although in a sense he had cloned her, like any clone she was not the original, and did not act like it."

"Kaylee, I believe we're way out in the black with no more O2." Mal said hastily. "Mr. Data I do apologize, we didn't mean to pry into your family life."

"Ah. You believe I am offended." Data's face showed comprehension--but to a comically exaggerated degree. "I assure you I am not. My father did not include emotions in my design. I have often wondered what it would be like to be offended. Can you explain?"

Mal looked at Data, waiting for the punch line. "You're serious." He finally said.

"Yes. As I said I have no emotions. Can you tell me what being offended feels like?"

"Well, um, it's unpleasant." Mal hazarded. "Makes a man angry. Like you had somethin' stole from you."

"I see. Presumably the thing stolen is one's honor? Honor is a very difficult concept for me. I know what the word means--but I cannot see how one could steal another's honor. Their possessions, yes, but not their honor."

They walked through a door and into a forest. Kaylee gasped in delight.

"_Wo! _Captain, oh my, oh my..." Kaylee was laughing, walking among the trees. "It's not a city in space, Captain, it's a _country._ Data, thank you so much for showing me this!"

"You are welcome." Data said, at a loss to explain Kaylee's reaction. He turned to Mal who was equally entranced. Mal had been in space so long, never touching down anywhere that wasn't a city, or dry brush, or ugly desert. Mal wandered forward, with Data tagging along like a totally confused but willing puppy.

They never made it past the forest. After a half hour Data informed them that Mr. La Forge was waiting for them in the main shuttle bay.

"I am sorry I wasn't able to show you more of the ship." Data apologized as he led them back to the shuttle bay. "Perhaps on another visit?"

"Mr. Data you did us a world o' good." Mal was feeling peaceful, more so than he had in years. _Decades_. "I am obliged to you; it's been years since I set foot in a forest. Forgot how much I missed it."

"Surely some of the planets in the Chara system have forests?" Data asked, perplexed.

"None I'm willin' to set foot on." Mal said gruffly. Data cocked his head.

"Ah, this is perhaps an area where _I _should not pry?" He raised his eyebrows, wanting Mal to tell him he'd guessed the correct social response.

"I'd take it as a kindness if you didn't." Mal said. Kaylee was walking alongside him, happily lost in a daze.

"Then I shall not pry." Data said in a decisive tone. The elevator ride back was a quiet one, the android analyzing his social success and the humans still feeling the quiet peace of the trees.

Mal stepped into the expansive shuttle bay and spotted _Enterprise's _chief engineer by _Serenity's _shuttle. He had a large stack of crates with him. Eyeballing the stack Mal guessed they'd fit, but he didn't look forward to lugging them out of the shuttle and down the catwalk steps. Some of them looked heavy.

"Captain Reynolds, hello again." Smiling, Mr. La Forge looked up from a small handheld device he'd been checking off cargo with.

"Captain Picard thought you might like some fresh fruit and produce, got some beef and chicken here too. Oh, and the stress sensors for _Serenity_ during the tow."

"Fresh fruit?" Kaylee asked eagerly. "Any strawberries?"

Smiling at the girl, Mr. La Forge scanned his list. "Let's see. Yep, here it is. Looks like eight kilograms."

"Oh my." She said reverently. She was lucky if she got two strawberries at a time. She'd never even seen eight kilograms of the fruit in one place before.

"Oh, and Captain Reynolds, I found a couple of ingots of platinum for you. I'll dig up the rest once things settle down. That ok?" He pointed to a couple of shiny gray bars carelessly stacked on top of the provision crates. Mal felt faint. He picked up the ingots, feeling their weight.

"Six kilos each." The engineer offered helpfully. "That's our standard size. If you need them in a different weight or shape let me know."

Mal stared at the fortune in his hands. _Serenity herself didn't cost this much, _he thought numbly.

"Captain, is there a problem?" Mr. La Forge asked. "It's nearly pure, 99.999."

"No." Mal said hoarsely, and then coughed to cover his gaffe. "No, that's just fine. If you'll help me we can load this on the shuttle and be on our way."

"Ahem." Kaylee said pointedly.

"Oh, right. Manners." Mal said, putting down the ingots with a tinge of regret. "Mr. La Forge, I'd like to introduce Kaylee, my ship's mechanic. Kaylee, this is Lieutenant La Forge, chief engineer of the _Enterprise_."

"Howdy." Kaylee stuck out her hand, which Mr. La Forge shook.

"Call me Geordi." He offered. "Guess we'll be working together. Captain Picard said you needed some spare parts for your ship?"

"Yeah. A new compression coil would be great." Kaylee said. "Course, there's other things we could use too." She cast a longing look at Mal.

"Let's worry about that later, Kaylee. Right now it's time to do the work put before us." Mal started to lift one of the smaller crates.

"Uh, actually, Captain?" La Forge interrupted, strangely hesitant.

"Yeah?" Mal asked, turning.

"You don't have to do that." La Forge answered.

"No trouble." Mal grunted, carrying the crate with difficulty. He disappeared into the shuttle. Geordi sighed, and made a couple of changes on his pad. Smoothly and silently the entire load lifted straight up until the bottom was just above the shuttle hatch. Kaylee looked at the quietly floating load, then at Geordi.

"_Nice_ trick." She said, grinning. "The Captain may not appreciate it though."

"I tried to tell him." The engineer said apologetically.

"Tell me what?" Mal asked, coming out of the hatch. He took a look at the floating cargo pallet-then sighed.

"Shoulda' figured you folks had some way to move cargo." Mal said ruefully. "I'll show you where to stow it."

"Actually, Captain, you can pull it behind you." La Forge said. "Just grab the handle." Kaylee grinned as Mal obediently pulled the weightless pallet easily into the shuttle.

"I loved that." She said, chuckling. "Course, he ain't gonna be fit to live with once I tell the story." She and Geordi boarded the shuttle, where Geordi lowered the pallet and set it so its artificial gravity protected the crates from shifting during flight.

Mal was quiet during the short flight back to _Serenity_, while Geordi and Kaylee chatted about the upcoming course change. Once aboard _Serenity_ the pallet floated out of the shuttle and into the air twenty feet above the cargo bay floor. Geordi gently lowered the pallet to the floor, and then towed it to the corner Mal pointed to.

The two men quickly transferred the crates. While Geordi busied himself returning the pallet to the shuttle Mal grabbed the two platinum ingots and put them in the safe in his cabin. Once that terribly important detail was attended to he headed for the bridge to prepare for the course change.


	10. Ch 10: Pop Quiz

The course change was completed without incident; they parked themselves a discrete distance from the rest of the system. The month went quickly. Mal and his crew were interviewed exhaustively, the Cortex data transferred and analyzed. Despite the hours of interviews Mal felt better than he had in years. He was eating fresh food daily; his crew looked fit and happy. Even Jayne was less surly than usual.

The platinum (all 324 glorious kilograms of it) had been transferred, and was sitting safely in _Serenity's _hold. The total in coin, Mal was given to understand, was just a hair over five million. Jayne just sat and stared at the crates like he was seeing the promised land.

Mal was still trying to figure out how to safely deposit the platinum without losing it to Alliance taxes or moneylender greed. Five million in platinum was more money than he'd ever had to deal with. He was finding the idea strangely intimidating.

True to their word _Enterprise _had supplied all the spare parts they had needed. Geordi and Kaylee had crawled through every bit of his ship, fixing the broken, the ready-to-break, and the outright missing. From the sound of it they had had the time of their lives.

Wash was gloating over _Serenity's _newly restored sensors. Truth to tell, _Serenity_ had been nearly blind, half her sensor package missing or broken. No longer would anybody be able to sneak up on them without warning. Serenity's sensors were now as good as anything else in space, she could spot a shuttle under power at 10 A.U.

Her cry babies had been restocked too, and her tanks topped off. Mal didn't know who was happier about the state of his ship, him, Wash, or Kaylee.

Of course the 'verse wasn't perfect. Not even _Enterprise's _superior medical technology had been able to do much for River. The doctor said he now knew what had been done to his sister, in detail. _Enterprise_ had also been able to tell him which drugs would help stabilize River's condition, but nothing could undo the damage the Alliance had done.

On the positive side _Enterprise _had been able to stock _Serenity's _medical bay with all manner of drugs and equipment. Of course, because of the Prime Directive none of it used Federation technology, but it was far better than anything Mal could have afforded.

Sheppard Book had been enriched too, he said. Not caring overmuch for material possessions the Sheppard had instead concentrated on learning about the non-humans onboard _Enterprise_. While he couldn't bring anything back that would reveal the secret of an alternate universe, he could and did gain a wealth of material to contemplate how wondrous the hand of the Creator had been, fashioning not one universe but an infinity of them.

Inara, too, had spent a great deal of time with the non-humans onboard _Enterprise_, but in her case she was trying to live up to the role of ambassador that had been thrust upon her. Her reward had been exposure to art and culture of a thousand different worlds, worlds she couldn't even have imagined. She counted herself blessed beyond her wildest dreams.

Jayne was happy with the platinum. But he'd also obtained (how, Mal wasn't sure) a working replica of Jesse James's Colt .45 Peacemaker, along with holster, gun belt, and enough ammunition for a small war. Mal had had no idea Jayne knew any history of Earth-that-was, much less had a hero from an obscure part of ancient history.

Zoe was content. Her ship was in far better shape than she'd ever believed possible, her husband was happy as a clam about _Serenity's _newly regained abilities (and made sure to share his happiness athletically at every opportunity). Even her captain was loosening up and letting some of the bitterness out of his soul.

To put the cherry on top, when the month ended _Enterprise_ threw them a party. After the party Mal met privately with Captain Picard in his quarters, and they shared a bottle of Saurian brandy.

"So, Captain Picard, I hear the job is done." Mal said, sipping his brandy appreciatively. Picard had told him it came from a system a few hundred light years from here, and Mal was treating the drink with the deep respect it deserved.

"Yes, Captain Reynolds. We've done an extensive analysis, but I'm afraid first contact is out of the question."

"Oh, why is that?" Mal was sprawled comfortably on the couch. Picard hesitated.

"To be frank, our anthropologists have uncovered some disturbing issues in your culture."

"Coulda told you that." Mal chuckled. "Truth be told the Alliance don't hold much appeal for _me_, and I gotta live here. I imagine the war didn't help matters."

"Well, it confuses the issue certainly, but we've dealt with cultures recovering from civil wars before. What concerns me more is the Machiavellian nature of your government. There are too many unanswered questions, too many secrets that simply don't make sense. Our intelligence gathering has of course encountered typical data restrictions: military deployment, budgetary data, that sort of thing. But seemingly harmless data has also been placed under tight security, for no reason I could possibly imagine."

"Maybe some bureaucrat is covering his _pigu. _Got his fingers in the cookie jar." Mal suggested. Picard shook his head.

"I wish I could believe that. Let me ask you, Captain, how many planets are in this system, not counting moons?"

"Uh, lemme think." The brandy was spreading warmth through him. "Fifteen."

"Are you sure?" Captain Picard leaned forward in his chair. Mal frowned, counting in his head.

"Yep. There's fifteen."

"What if I told you there were actually sixteen, Captain?" Captain Picard asked.

"Well, maybe there's a black rock on the edge of the system." Mal shrugged.

"No. It's a class M planet." Picard said. "Uninhabited, but there's a swarm of ships orbiting it. The odd thing is there are no records of this planet in your database, and the ships don't seem to land on it. In fact for the most part they stay in orbit. Occasionally a few ships come in-system, usually by themselves, stay for just a few hours, then return to the swarm."

Mal had a sudden chill that brandy wasn't going to cure. "These ships, they happen to emit more radiation than is healthful?"

"You know something." Picard guessed. "Yes, they have a much stronger radiation signature than normal."

"Reavers." Mal bit the word off and sat up, putting his brandy on the table. "My suggestion to you, destroy every ship in that swarm. From as far away as you can possibly be."

"What? Why?" Picard was startled at the bloodthirsty suggestion and the cold passionless tone it was delivered in.

"Reavers ain't men." Mal said. "They used to be men, but somethin' happened--nobody knows what. Reavers are--horrifying. Like boogey men outta stories. They take a ship, they almost never leave survivors. And that's a blessin', trust me. 'Cause when they do leave somebody, the poor _hundan's_ been forced to watch. Never right after that. Most times they turn into Reavers their own selves. The rest either die or commit suicide."

"Once they take a ship, they rape the crew to death, skin them and eat the bodies. And if the crew was very, very lucky they do it in that order." Mal was staring at something Picard couldn't see. "We've run into them a time or two. Managed to get away the first time, out-maneuvered their ship and caught 'em with a full burn in atmo. Hope we blew 'em into flaming chunks, the _hechu sheng zajiao de zanghuo_."

"Second time, we come across a ship they hit. 'Bout the size of _Serenity_. Settlers, headed for the outer planets."

He looked at Picard, face blank. "Sixteen families, Captain. Men, their wives, children. More than one baby." He picked up the brandy and tossed it back in a single gulp.

"We cut down the bodies. Some had been hung, upside down and gutted. Others, just torn apart. Specially the little ones."

"My God." Picard breathed.

"Yeah. So you know where those Reavers are, you do the 'verse a favor and you _end them_. Wipe them from the face of creation." Mal was breathing hard.

He was interrupted by slow clapping. Both men turned, startled.

"Bravo, Captain Reynolds!"

"Q!" Picard hissed.

"You could learn something from this one, Jean-Luc." Q said, smiling. "He's such a sterling example of your race! Savage, ruthless. Did you know he's a smuggler _and _a train robber? A masterstroke in this so-called advanced civilization."

Watching Q grin gave Mal a deep sense of _rightness_. He'd been fooled into thinking the universe was smiling on him. Yeah, smiling to distract him from the knife in its other hand...

"Whatever he is, Q, he's a far better man than you'll ever be." Picard snapped. "Captain Reynolds has scrupulously upheld his end of the bargain, as have we."

"But you heard him, _mon capitaine_! _End them_ he said." Q looked over at Mal.

"You're right you know. The Reavers are a hideous stain upon the universe and should be exterminated like vermin." He cocked his head. "Just like the rest of humanity, really. No difference."

Mal felt his blood boil.

"Mister, I don't know where you came from but calling me the same as a Reaver is a good way to get yourself stomped on. I seen what those _things_ did to folk who done nothing to nobody." He strode up to Q, who looked amused as the smaller man literally got in his face. Mal hooked a foot behind Q's leg and smashed Q across the face with a forearm. Surprised, the supposedly invulnerable and superior being hit the floor, hard. Mal stood over him, breathing hard.

"Get up." Mal snarled.

Q touched his nose and winced. "I'm _bleeding._ You _hit_ me!" He accused Mal, wonderingly. "You actually _hit_ me."

"Yeah, and I aim to do it again, so stand up."

Q vanished from the floor in a flash of light and reappeared, standing completely unharmed. But--Picard couldn't help noticing--Q was just out of Mal's reach.

"Jean Luc never hits me." Q complained.

"Yeah, well he's a nice guy. I ain't." Mal was sure he'd smashed Q's nose, he'd tried for maximum damage. But there was no sign of it now. He began to wonder if he'd just done something terminally stupid.

"Enough. Q, what do you want?" Picard asked.

"I was getting bored. Aside from that one ship you haven't been very entertaining." Q pouted. "Sitting out here, doing nothing much. I was sure you'd have conquered this system by now, Jean Luc. Militarily they're helpless before the might of this ship."

"We aren't conquerors, Q." Picard said tiredly. "We're explorers. Not killers."

"Tell that to the ship you destroyed." Q said.

"We did nothing of the kind. They destroyed themselves while trying to destroy us." Picard snapped.

"A matter of semantics my dear captain." Q waved the objection away airily. "But _now_ you have a real moral dilemma in front of you, don't you? These Reavers. Tisk." Q looked solemn. "Such a difficult decision. If you do nothing, the Reavers will continue to, how did Captain Reynolds put it? Ah yes, hang their victims upside down and gut them." Q stared coldly at Picard.

"Can't have that, can we _mon capitaine?_ Baby's torn limb from limb and eaten as their mothers are raped to death? No, the Federation can't have _that!_"

Q turned and paced, stroking his chin. "But then there's that pesky Prime Directive. Can't interfere in the internal affairs of another culture. What to do, what to do?"

"Miracles, Jean Luc. They're _never_ free. Time to pay the piper." He vanished. Picard stiffened, fully expecting to hear the alarm klaxon. But the room stayed silent. Mal watched him.

"I begin to see why you don't cotton to that fella." Mal said. "What did he mean about payin' the piper?"

Picard looked out the window, at the stars that shone untroubled by human concerns. He sighed heavily and refreshed his glass, silently pouring Mal another glass as well. He settled into his chair and rubbed his eyes. Mal waited, sensing now was not the time for words. Picard had a look Mal had seen before. It was the look of a man that had seen one too many friends die.

"The first time we met Q he put the _Enterprise_ crew on trial for crimes against intelligent life. The _second_ time we met him he tested my second in command to see if he was worthy of becoming Q." Picard snorted. "As if Q is a fit judge of anything. The last time we met Q he hurled the _Enterprise_ several thousand light years, to a system known to us only as J-25. It had been devastated by attacks of a species known as the Borg." Picard looked at Mal.

"Captain, meaning no disrespect to you or your ship, but the Borg were as far beyond us technologically as our ship is beyond yours."

"No harm." Mal said. "Though I have to say the thought of something that could best this ship is a mite worrisome."

"Indeed. The Borg ship was a cube three kilometers on a side."

"Wait. You say _three kilometers_?" Mal asked incredulously. Picard nodded.

"They locked us in place with a tractor beam, drained our shields with laughable ease, and then carved out a chunk of the saucer section. They took three decks. Eighteen crew members."

"Ouch." Mal winced.

"Just before the rift brought us here Q returned those eighteen crew members to us. Alive, and completely unharmed." Mal stared.

"Let me see if I understand you." Mal said slowly. "Q raised eighteen people _from the dead_?"

"His 'miracle'." Picard agreed. "Of course he didn't raise them from the dead. He merely snatched them from that hull section before sending us to J-25. The Borg took an empty piece of the ship. Now, for reasons only Q knows, he's presenting me with a moral dilemma I must solve."

"You do have _interestin'_ taste in enemies." Mal observed drily. "But there are a couple of things I want to be clear on here. First, did I just hit somebody who casually tossed _this ship_ through time and space?"

"Yes, you did. Well done! I've wanted to do that for _months_."

"Uh huh. And, not to expose my truly appalling level o' ignorance, but how did Q know ahead of time exactly which piece the Borg were gonna carve on? This being such a truly enormous ship and all?"

Picard blinked. "I don't know." He admitted.

"So now what?" Mal said.

"Now, I have to decide what, if anything, to do about the Reavers."

"Easy." Mal said. "Kill 'em all. Put 'em out of the 'verse afore they do some other poor _hundan_. And his wife and kids, most likely."

"It's not that simple, Captain." Picard said tiredly.

"You done right by me and mine, Captain. I ain't got no right to push you here. But I'm tellin' you, Reavers ain't human. They started that way, maybe, but now they're boogey men straight outta some nightmare. Only, thing is they're real. I seen 'em, been chased by 'em. Killed one of 'em with my bare hands. I seen the leftovers." Mal spoke in a flat voice.

"It's powerful hard, Captain, when you wanna do right by the dead, only they're in such a state you don't know how many bodies there are. How much is--missing."

"I believe you, Captain Reynolds." Picard said heavily. "I've seen my own share of atrocities. But murderous savages or not, I can't just kill them. That would make me no better than them."

Mal gaped at him. If he'd met this man on Ariel or Sihnon he'd dismiss him as a hopeless idealist. But he wasn't on Ariel or Sihnon, he was sitting onboard this man's ship, a mighty _military_ vessel that no sane bureaucrat would entrust to an idealist. He was completely flabbergasted.

"But--" He started. "Look, let's say it was Councilor Troi about to get skinned. Would you kill a Reaver then?"

"If necessary." Picard nodded. He held up a hand. "Captain, I know the argument. We aren't stupid, if there's no other way we will kill an attacker. But it has to be the _last _resort."

"Just wish you could see a Reaver, up close and personal." Mal muttered. "Then you might not be so ready to turn the other cheek."

Picard stared at him, deep in thought. He seemed to come to some decision.

"Captain Reynolds, can I trust you?" Picard asked. "I mean _really_ trust you? To keep secrets, even from your own crew?"

Mal watched Picard narrowly. This was familiar ground. Mal had made a hundred deals, kept more secrets than he cared to think about. In the shadowy seas _Serenity_ sailed secrets were a smuggler's stock in trade.

"Won't lie to you Captain. There's some as would name me smuggler." He stared the other man straight in the eye. "Thief too. Man's gotta do what it takes to keep his ship flyin' and his bones inside his skin. But ain't nobody in this 'verse says Malcolm Reynolds don't keep his word. On top of which, I owe you. Won't speak of nothing you want kept dark."

"Then, Captain, I'll have to ask your indulgence for a while longer. Have your crew return to your ship and wait for us. You and I will be taking the _Enterprise_ on a short trip, just a few hours. Don't worry, we'll make sure no ships can reach _Serenity_ in the time we'll be gone."

"Where we going?" Mal asked.

"To meet a Reaver, face to face." Picard said quietly.


	11. Ch 11: Meeting The Neighbors

"Huh." Mal said, at a loss. "_Butai jengchang de_."

"I'm sorry?" Picard asked politely. "I don't speak Chinese."

"Means, um, not entirely sane." Mal said. "Face to face meetin's with Reavers tend to be short, bloody, and full of regret."

"Rest assured, Captain, we will take every precaution. The Reaver will have no opportunity to attack us."

"If it was anybody else saying that I'd be runnin'. I just want you to know that." Mal said. "On account of I have gobs of trust in you not gettin' us suddenly dead. Having said that." He smiled warmly. "Have I mentioned how dangerous Reavers are? How they charge the instant they see movement? Oh, and did I mention the large jagged-y blades they favor?"

"Trust me, Captain, I believe you." Picard assured him. "Completely. Now, if you'll tell your people to return to your ship, I'll arrange a meeting of my senior officers."

"You do seem to love meetin's." Mal said, shaking his head. He headed off to find his crew while Picard did the same.

"Mal!" Wash greeted him. They were sitting around in Ten-forward, an honest to God _bar_. Mal had laughed out loud when he found out _Enterprise_ had a bar on board. His already high opinion of their hosts had skyrocketed after that.

"Listen up, folks. As usual our luck has gone all pear-shaped." Mal cut to the chase. "Remember Q? Well, seems he showed up a few minutes ago while I was having a quiet drink with Captain Picard. Nastiest piece o' work it's ever been my misfortune to meet. Though the particulars seem a mite fuzzy, bottom line is Q's cornered Picard concernin' the Reavers."

"What Reavers?" Jayne snapped to alertness. "Ain't going to have nothin' to do with Reavers!"

"No Jayne, _Enterprise_ is. Everybody goes back to _Serenity, _pronto."

"Zoe, I want you to take care of my boat while I'm gone. I'm goin' along while Picard does whatever it is he's gonna do. He said we'd be back in a few hours. If we're not back in a day, start headin' for New Melbourne. If we ain't caught up by the time you make port--well we won't be comin'."

"Keep those new sensors peeled and if anything looks like it might be trouble you take off. _Enterprise _is fast enough to catch up I expect."

"Yes, sir. I expect it would be a waste of time to ask you to be careful?" Zoe's expression was as neutral as always but Mal could read the concern.

"As careful as they let me be, Zoe. Don't scratch my boat, I'm expecting her to be as shiny as when I left, _dong ma?_"

"I'm going with the _t'ien lung_." River said unexpectedly. "Bunny rabbit mustn't hear the screams. Mustn't see the blood. Not _ever_." River's voice sent chills down Mal's back. "I've heard them before. Not afraid of the dead. Not afraid of the blood."

"Absolutely not, River!" Simon said angrily. "You'll come back with us."

"No Simon. The bunny rabbit mustn't hear. She mustn't see." River said, focusing on her brother. "It would kill her soul."

Simon was about to protest again when Book laid a hand on his arm. "River sees more of the 'verse than the rest of us. Mayhap she's got the right of it this time."

"She's unstable, Mal." Simon appealed to the captain. "She might lose control at the worst possible moment."

"Might." Mal allowed, thoughtful. "Might not. Little bird, you really ready to do this?"

"Bunny rabbit needs me. _T'ien lung_ needs me. The vase may be cracked, but it still dips from the well." Her eyes were clear as she looked at Mal. He nodded.

"Good enough. Zoe, herd 'em to the shuttles. Keep my boat safe, hear? Now scoot."

"Yes, sir." Zoe said. "You heard the captain, let's move people."

"Well, little bird, let's go see what the _t'ien lung_'s got in mind, hmm?" Mal said. Just as they were about to leave, the hostess, a tall black woman with a strange hat, stopped them.

"Captain Picard wants me to attend the meeting too." She said. "I'll show you the way."

"Guinan, ain't it?" Mal asked. She nodded. "Be pleased to have your company. Picard tell you what's up?"

"No, but I can guess." Guinan said. "If I've been invited it means trouble--unusual trouble."

"Reavers." River said, face serious. "Secrets in the dark. A woman, screaming."

"River, darlin', what have I told you about creepifying our hosts?" Mal said absently, too busy worrying about meeting a Reaver face-to-face to put any heat in the reprimand.

"It's all right Captain. I don't scare easily." Guinan replied calmly. "I'm betting there's a good reason you brought her along rather than sending her back to your ship with the others."

"Not wrong." Mal answered, looked sideways at the bartender. "You a reader too?"

"Not the way you mean." She shook her head. "But when you've been around as I have, you pick up things. You learn to read faces, body posture, chance remarks."

"Suppose you do." Mal agreed. "How long we talkin'?"

Guinan looked at him and broke into a radiant smile. "About three minutes, I think. Why?"

River giggled. Mal gave her a crooked grin.

"Guess I deserved that." He admitted. "Only, on this ship I can't assume nothin'. Mite unsettlin'."

"Let's just say I had tea with Samuel Clemens on more than one occasion." Guinan said, taking pity.

"Who's that, then?" Mal asked. Guinan raised her eyebrows.

"Samuel Langhorne Clemens, better known as Mark Twain, 19'th century humorist, satirist, lecturer, and writer." River recited. "Another treasure lost from Earth-that-was."

"Earth-that-was?" Guinan asked as they stepped out of the elevator.

"Guess Earth's still lived on in your neck o' the woods." Mal said.

"Population's about 5 billion, last time I checked." Guinan agreed.

When they got to the conference room others were still arriving. Picard nodded to them and returned to his conversation with the bearded second in command. _Riker? Yeah that's his name_. Mal grinned to himself. Commander Riker had made a play for Inara, who had politely turned him down. _Guess his credit balance weren't large enough._ Mal thought vindictively.

The meeting eventually came to order.

"Q made another appearance tonight." Captain Picard announced. Mal found the reactions from the various officers enlightening. They ranged from Riker's anger to exasperation on Mr. La Forge's face, to Councilor Troi's tightened eyes. Guinan was frowning. The thought that _anything_ could disturb these people gave Mal pause. He thought about how Q's nose had felt flattening under his forearm. _Not smart. _He thought ruefully. _Do it again though_. Some things were just worth doing, no matter what the cost.

"Q finally revealed his purpose for sending us here. It seems a band of pirates called Reavers are orbiting the outermost planet of this system. According to Captain Reynolds these Reavers are murderous psychopaths who delight in the most monstrous acts, leaving no survivors of their attacks. He advises us to wipe out the Reavers from a safe distance."

Mal winced. The looks from around the table made him feel about two inches tall. Picard let the silence continue for an uncomfortably long time.

"The problem is, Q confirms these Reavers are truly as horrific as Captain Reynolds paints them. I won't repeat the atrocities he related to me; suffice it to say the Reavers are apparently the living embodiment of evil."

"Evil. You're right about that." Mal nodded. "Which is why I can't for the life of me figure out why you plan to go find one and look it in the face. Do you think I'm lyin' to you? You figure maybe I'm exaggeratin'?"

"No, Captain. I believe you. I even believe Q--but I don't trust him. Our presence here is Q's doing. And now Q is showing us evil on a grand scale. Only _this_ time I can destroy it without risking the _Enterprise_." He looked around the table.

"_This_ is our test. Q knew perfectly well we'd never harm a small ship like _Serenity_; he used Captain Reynolds and his crew as a convenient cat's paw. He wanted us to find out about the Reavers from someone we'd befriended, that we trusted. He's tempting us to commit genocide in the name of saving the innocent."

It was then that Mal grasped what Picard was talking about. He'd figured the man was a hopeless romantic, with notions of chivalry dancing in his head. Now he knew better. Picard _would_ use this ship to destroy the Reavers-provided he saw no other alternative. He'd do it with regret, and he'd bear the stain on his soul-but he would do it none the less. Just as Mal had, in Serenity Valley, during the war.

_To each man, his own Hell..._ Mal thought.

"You gotta be _sure_." Mal said, watching Picard. He saw the stillness, the steel. "You gotta see it with your own eyes. Because it's you what gives the order."

"Yes, Captain. Because I will be the one giving the order."

"Then I'll follow your lead on this, and not say more." Mal said quietly, sitting back. Picard nodded.

"Here is what I propose. We move to the edge of the system and locate a Reaver ship, as far from the others as we can manage. We let Councilor Troi sense what she can--"

"No!" River said emphatically. "Bunny rabbit must _not _hear. She must not see. Or the Reavers will rip her brain open from the inside."

"What do you mean, River?" Troi asked, confused. "Are the Reavers telepathic?"

"Reavers get inside your head." River shivered. "The screams don't stop, they never stop. And they keep coming." River was staring at Councilor Troi. "They would eat you, bunny rabbit. Eat you alive while you screamed. You'd be screaming in the dark as they ate your brain. So you must not hear. You must not see. Or you'll be bleeding before they ever got on this ship. All alone in the dark."

Councilor Troi paled. The rest of the table looked grim. Commander Riker turned to Mal.

"Can we trust River about this?" Riker said.

"Dunno. Sheppard Book told me River saw the Councilor the night before you contacted us. Said she wasn't expectin' River to be lookin' back."

"River did sense me." Troi admitted.

"River, can you sense the Reavers?" Data asked. River shook her head.

"Not from here. Too far away. Can't see more than a few thousand klicks." River said, playing with her hair. "Can't hear more than a million."

"In the spirit of sharin'," Mal said, "She did know you was plannin' a visit, and that you were all cuddly before you appeared. Call me a worrywart but if it was me, I'd be takin' her serious."

"Indeed. Very well, Councilor Troi I want you to avoid all contact with the Reavers. We'll move to within extreme transporter range, keeping up the cloaking shield. We'll use sensors to gather what intelligence we can about them. Then we'll drop the shields long enough to beam one of them on board inside a containment field in sick bay. We'll render the Reaver unconscious and examine him to find what caused the--condition."

"Wait--you want to bring one on _board_?" Mal squawked. "You do that and you'll be hunting for a new med staff. Not to mention how you plan to do that and come back from the Reaver ship alive."

"Rest assured, Captain I have no intention of risking my crew on board a Reaver ship." Captain Picard reassured him. "Nor is there any danger to the medical staff. The containment field is strong enough to contain a fusion explosion. No matter how fast or strong a Reaver might be he won't be able to break out."

"Famous last words." Mal shook his head. "Still, your ship, your call. I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but just be careful, _dong ma?_"

"Believe me, Captain. I will not endanger this ship or its crew. There are children on board this ship, you know."

"No, I truly did not know that." Mal said, seeing blood spattered tiny bodies in his mind... "I said I'd say no more, but for the love of all that's cute and cuddly, don't screw the pooch on this. Or we might not live to regret it."

The meeting continued, with a lot of technobabble that was well over Mal's head. River seemed to be following the conversation, which worried Mal a little. Guinan sat calm and silent, listening. Dr Crusher seemed to be making some ethical objections, but the Captain overruled her, assuring her the Reaver wouldn't be harmed.

_The **Reaver** won't be harmed? _Mal thought incredulously. _That's like lambs saying they won't hurt the lion they're aimin' to capture._

The meeting broke up. Captain Picard asked Mal and River to accompany him to the bridge. It was Mal's first view of the bridge and when he stepped out of the elevator (turbo-lift they called it) he stopped to take it all in.

_You could fit Serenity's hold in this room. _He thought to himself. _Have some room left over the galley too._

"Mr. Data, how far to the swarm?" Picard asked as Data settled behind his console.

"The swarm is approximately 162 light minutes from our current position, Captain." Data said in his normal calm tone.

"Plot a course to put us forty thousand kilometers from the edge of swam."

"Course laid in, sir. What speed?"

"Warp factor 5, Mr. Data."

"Sir?" Data actually turned to look at him.

"Confirmed, Mr. Data. Warp factor 5."

"Yes, sir." If Mal didn't know better he'd swear Data was _puzzled_.

"That's fast, is it?" Mal asked Picard.

"Time to swarm approximately 45 seconds. Raising shields, engaging cloaking mode." Data said calmly, hands flying over his console.

"Wait, 45 _seconds_?" Mal asked as the gigantic view screen showed a tactical plot of their course. The dot representing the _Enterprise_ suddenly moved across the screen with a magical swiftness Mal simple couldn't believe.

"You telling me we're covering 162 light minutes in 45 _seconds?_" He demanded. Captain Picard just nodded. "_Enterprise _can go faster than light?" Another nod. "Wait...not _spaceship. Starship_."

He stared as the dot approached a frighteningly large number of other dots. "Starship--as in a ship that travels between the stars. _Tian xiao de._ How fast we going in numbers I could understand?"

"214 _c_, Captain Reynolds." Data replied. Mal contemplated that. _214 times the speed of light._

"Wow." It was all he could think to say. "How fast can she go?"

"Warp 9.6, about 1900 _c _in short bursts_."_ Riker said after looking at his captain. "We can sustain warp 9.2 for long periods."

"Now, Captain Reynolds, you see why I swore you to secrecy." Picard said. "Imagine how your civilization would react to such technology, if it were introduced before you were ready."

"Would not be pretty." Mal agreed. "Can't say it would please me, were the Alliance to get aholt of this ship. River, you hold your peace on this, little bird. Not even your brother, _dong ma?_"

"She knows lots of secrets." River murmured as the dot stopped just at the edge of the swarm. "More than she should. Reavers." Casually she stretched out her arm, pointing off to one side and slightly downward.

"River is correct Captain." Data said. "I am reading 326 vessels in orbit. We are at extreme transporter range for four of the vessels. It would appear they have not noticed us."

"Safe to say." Mal commented. "If they'd noticed us they'd be red-linin' their engines getting here, slavering for fresh meat."

"Mr. Data, put the closest ship on viewer, maximum magnification." Picard ordered. The tactical plot disappeared, replaced by a single ship. Mal stiffened. It _looked_ evil. The battered hull was scarred and torn in places, the ship splashed with ugly red paint in a pattern that reminded Mal of blood spatters. The ship filled the view screen, which took up the entire front of the massive _Enterprise_ bridge, meaning Mal got a _really _good view. This is why he had no trouble seeing-

"Oh my God." Councilor Troi said in a low stricken voice.

"Close your eyes, bunny rabbit. You mustn't see, you _must not hear_." River said in a clear commanding voice that shocked everyone who'd come to know her. Mal watched her, making sure she wasn't about to go berserk. After a moment, he relaxed. River was focused, watching the Reaver ship narrowly, but she didn't appear to be thinking about ripping anyone limb from limb.

"Data, how many?" Commander Riker asked in a gruff voice. Mal nodded in satisfaction. He might begrudge Riker his pass at Inara but at least the man had _gaowan_. The sight hadn't completely unnerved him.

"Seven, Commander. Analysis indicates four men, two women, and a child, probably female." It was obscene, the calm way Data reported it. "The other ships also appear to have bodies festooning their hulls."

"Reavers do it to look fearsome." Mal said quietly. "Makes the ships they hit easier prey. Reaver'll just hang there, giving the poor _hundan _a real good look before they move in and butcher the crew. The ones they don't eat they add to their collection. You seen enough, Captain?" Mal asked. "Or are you gonna drink this cup to the last bitter dregs?"

"Mr. Data, how many Reavers on board?" Picard asked quietly.

"Sensors show 25 life signs, Captain." Data reported.

"I want to say this very clearly, so you take my full meanin'. I know you mean to bring one of those things on board, so heed these words o' wisdom." Mal said loudly. Everyone was watching him now, horrified by the ship on the screen.

"A Reaver'll play possum if needful, to lure you close enough. They're _fast_. They're _strong_. They are damnably hard to kill. I'm willin' to bet they can shrug off drugs what could fell an elephant. They are evil incarnate and they will do everythin' in their power to kill as many of you as they can, because they delight in slaughter and agony and death. And they are _good _at it."

"If they got time they'll rape a woman to death, cuttin' her up while they do. They like to skin their victims alive. They especially love to carve up little kiddies, and they take babies and pull them apart while they're rapin' the mama."

Councilor Troi looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Mal looked straight at her.

"I am not tellin' campfire stories, _dong ma? _I helped clean up what was left of a settler ship some months back. Manifest said 16 families, crew of five. What was left, well, the pieces didn't add up to near that much."

He stared at Captain Picard. "Do what you gotta do. Said I'd follow your lead and I will. But you lose any crew today it won't be because I didn't warn you."

"Do _not _turn your back just because the Reaver is unconscious and you think it's strapped down nice and safe. Reavers are not safe. Not _ever_. Do not let it loose, do not trust chains or bars to hold it, do not assume because it's behind one of your fancy force fields it can't hurt you. Reavers can hurt you just by existin'." He glanced at River. "That's why River don't want Councilor Troi trying to read a Reaver, I expect. Dunno if Reavers can reach into a reader's mind or not, but I like to think I got friends on this ship. Don't want any of 'em dyin' a nasty death today."

"So anybody's gotta get close to the Reaver you show 'em _that_." Mal pointed at the ship on the screen. "Just so's they stay extra careful." He slumped. "I probably sound like a ravin' lunatic. But a Reaver is death come callin', as sure as takin' a walk in the black without your suit."

Captain Picard rose. "Captain Reynolds, you have my word every precaution will be taken. Your warnings will be heeded. Any crewmember that has to get near the Reaver will see that ship first. And I will have phaser-armed security backing the containment field and we will use restraints intended for the strongest species in the Federation. And the Reaver will never gain consciousness while onboard this ship. Does that satisfy you?"

"Can't say it sets my mind to ease." Mal said seriously. "It might be enough. Guess it'll have to be."

"Captain, permission to lead the security team that guards the Reaver." Worf said.

"Permission granted." Picard looked at Worf. "Mr. Worf you are to treat the Reaver as a psychotic, sentient predator who intends to prey on the crew of this ship if given the chance. Do not give the Reaver that chance."

"Understood, Captain."

"Mr. Worf." Mal spoke up. The Klingon met his gaze steadily. "I trust you will not take offense when I tell you this. _Do not take your eyes off the Reaver while it is on this ship. _If it even _looks_ like it's trying to break loose, my advice is kill it. Don't let it stand up, no matter what." Mal turned to Captain Picard.

"Beg pardon for speakin' so to a member of your crew, Captain. Matter this _fengkuang_, want to leave no room for misunderstanin's."

"I share your concern, Captain Reynolds." Picard said. "Mr. Worf, assemble your best team. Make sure they see _that_." He nodded at the screen. "And make sure the medical staff does as well. Alert the bridge and the transporter room when you're ready."

"Aye, Captain." Worf turned and strode off the bridge.

The ship image remained on the screen, while the minutes crawled past. Mal watched the bridge crew, he watched River, and he watched the Reaver ship to make sure it wasn't turning toward them. He found the crew's reactions curiously reassuring. Most refused to look at the screen, concentrating on their duties. Mal understood that reaction, it was human nature to avoid fearful things.

Others kept sneaking looks at the screen, then quickly turning away. Another natural reaction, keeping an eye on a dangerous thing. Trying to stay unnoticed while they did.

Councilor Troi was pale, resolutely refusing to look at the screen. She had a tight, closed in look that Mal sincerely hoped meant she was doing whatever it was telepaths did to cut off their powers.

River was watching the Reaver ship with detached focus, very much like a cat watching a mouse hole. She looked like she was ready to wait as long as it took for the Reavers to poke their heads out. Mal felt a chill as he suddenly remembered Kaylee's description of River killing those men on Niska's skyplex.

Data was the real puzzle. He neither avoided looking at the screen nor stole quick glances at it. He seemed calm; doing whatever it was he was doing with no sense of alarm. Mal knew Data wasn't flesh and blood, and acted a bit eccentric, but this was the first time Data's _otherness_ had been rubbed in Mal's face.

"Captain Picard, Worf here. We're in position. Containment field is standing by, phasers set to heavy stun." Worf's growling voice broke the silence, making Mal jump. River didn't flinch, her concentration totally on the Reaver ship.

"Dr. Crusher assures me she will be able to tell the difference between the Reaver being unconscious and 'playing possum'." He continued. "All non-essential personnel have been evacuated and quarantine fields are active. The isolation ward is sealed from the rest of the ship. Emergency transporters are standing by. Main transporter has reported locking onto our target."

_At least they're taking me serious_. Mal thought grimly. _Why ain't I all warm and fuzzy?_

"Very good, Mr. Worf. You may give the order to proceed at your discretion."

"Acknowledged, Captain. Transporter room, beam the target directly to the isolation ward coordinates."

There was a shimmering kind of noise and then a screaming growl. Several high-pitched warbling whistles followed and then a shout. Another round of whistle sounds and then Mal heard a distinctive _thump_ that could only be the sound of a body hitting the floor, followed by silence.

"Report, Mr. Worf." Picard's voice held no tension. _He's good_, Mal thought admiringly.

"The Reaver is unconscious, Captain, we are securing it now." Worf's growl sounded--_angry_. "It appears despite Captain Reynolds best attempts, we underestimated the Reaver. He took several phaser hits and kept coming. Before the second round of fire took him down he managed to attack me with a _ghuy' _serrated blade. He was aiming for my belly, but I was quick enough to evade most of the blow. However I have sustained a deep gash in my side. Also, my _Ha'quj_ has been damaged."

Both Picard and Riker winced. Mal wondered how badly the security officer had been hurt. _He sounds like he wants to kill somethin'--worse'n usual, that is._ Mal thought.

"My condolences, Mr. Worf. You have acted honorably, your _Ha'quj_ will be tended to. You have my word. Have Dr. Crusher attend your injuries."

"_batlh pothl law yIn pothl puS._" Worf replied sternly.

"_HoD lob Worf_."

"Yes, sir." Worf said. Mal got the impression the security officer was rolling his eyes.

"Have the medical team take their samples and scans quickly, and then beam the Reaver back to his ship, preferably in a secluded section."

"Yes, Cap--tain." Worf grunted. "Worf--ah--out."

"Worf must be in bad shape." Riker commented. "Normally you'd never hear him grunt like that. Dr. Crusher usually has a light touch."

"What was that he said? Somethin' about his hackage?" Mal asked.

"_Ha'quj." _Picard answered. "His honor sash. Klingon culture places great importance on the honor sash. It's hard won and easy to lose, much like honor itself. Having it damaged in battle is considered unlucky. As the one who placed him in that position it is my responsibility to repair the sash."

"Sounded like he was complainin' about you fussin' too much. Fella strikes me as the stoic type." Mal said, feeling the adrenalin draining away.

"He said honor is more important than life, a Klingon proverb." Picard answered. "I reminded him obedience to one's commanding officer is also a virtue in Klingon culture." He chuckled. "As for being stoic, yes, I fear Mr. Worf is a Klingon's Klingon when it comes to that particular trait."

"How long you reckon your sawbones're gonna need?" Mal said. "And how did the Reaver get onboard anyhow?"

"Dr. Crusher told me they should only need about fifteen minutes." Picard said. "As to how he got here, you would probably call it teleportation, although that's not precisely accurate."

"You can teleport people too?" Mal said, beyond shock at this point.

"To be accurate, Captain Reynolds." Data spoke up, still doing things to his console. "Transporters do not perform teleportation. They disassemble the target, transfer the resulting energy through space, and reassemble the target at the destination. Teleportation, as far as we have determined, involves the use of wormholes to move the target from one point in space to another without covering the distance in between."

"Right..." Mal drawled. "End result's the same, though. No need for shuttles. So how come I spent so much time flittin' between _Serenity_ and _Enterprise_? Come to that, how come _Enterprise_ has a shuttle bay at all?"

"We felt transporter technology was one of the subjects forbidden by the Prime Directive, Captain." Picard told him. "Also, to answer your second question, sometimes a shuttle craft is more convenient for a mission than the transporter. For example, when you have a large collection of gear with you and you're moving from site to site. Shuttles are also well suited for extended exploration independent of the ship. There are also certain natural phenomena on planets that can disrupt a transporter beam, making it too risky to use."

"Ah. That could be messy." Mal admitted, thinking about being transported and having his molecules disrupted. _On second thought, let's not think about that._

"Worf to Captain Picard." Worf's voice came again, and it still sounded angry. _Man needs to take up a hobby, _Mal thought.

"Go ahead Mr. Worf."

"The samples have been taken and the containment field is up while the scans are completed. However the Reaver is awake and fighting his restraints. His ferocity is very--Klingon." That gave Mal pause. He looked at Picard for confirmation. Picard nodded.

"Understood, Mr. Worf. How much longer until we can say goodbye to our troublesome guest?"

"Six minutes, Captain."

"Make it so, Mr. Worf. How is your injury?"

"I will live, Captain. Unfortunately, so will the Reaver." Worf growled. Mal nodded. It seemed Worf now shared Mal's opinion of the Reavers.

_Good to know_, he thought. The minutes stacked up, refusing to pass, or so it seemed. Finally the silence was broken a second time.

"Dr. Crusher to Captain Picard." The woman's voice was shaky.

"Yes, Doctor. Are you all right?"

"Fine. Shaken up but fine. We've completed the last of the neural scans. Can you get this patient out of my sick bay?"

"Absolutely, Doctor. Mr. Worf, would you do the honors please?"

"Acknowledged. Transporter room, return the Reaver to his ship."

"Aye aye, sir. Transporting now--that's it. The Reaver is on his ship."

"Thank you, Mr. O'Brien. Captain, the Reaver is now off the ship."

"Thank God." Commander Riker said. The entire bridge crew relaxed, the danger past. So did Mal, until River spoke.

"_T'ien lung _hit the hornet's nest with a stick." She said, still watching the ship. It was turning to face them. In spite of knowing the ship posed no threat to the _Enterprise_ Mal felt a chill.

"Captain, several of the Reaver vessels are powering up engines. They are headed this way, arrival in approximately 30 minutes." The view of the ship was replaced by a tactical plot. As Mal watched more and more dots began to move, color change indicating which ships were under acceleration.

"Does look like a bunch o' hornets, don't it?" Mal commented, watching the countdown timer. He actually felt relaxed, knowing _Enterprise_ would be long gone before the ships got anywhere near him.

"Can't see us, but they know where we are." River said suddenly. "Spotted us the first time, locked on the second. Coming to hunt, coming to play." Her soft voice sent chills down Mal's spine.

"Captain Picard, dunno 'bout you, but I'm powerful anxious to be away from those ships." Mal said conversationally. "_Kuai qu hen yuan de difang._"

"Computer, translate please." Picard said.

"Mandarin Chinese phrase. Translation: go far away very fast." A cool female voice supplied from the air. Mal blinked.

"What a wonderful idea. We have what we came for." Picard said, sitting back. "Mr. Data, lay in a course for _Serenity_, warp factor 5." He turned to Mal. "Captain, I want to thank you for being so insistent in your warnings about the Reavers. You were right, they are incredibly dangerous. You probably saved several lives today."

"I do occasionally have my moments." Mal said, smiling wryly. "Just sorry that Worf fella got hisself sliced."

"Foo dog is happy to fight." River said, chuckling. "Don't hold a grudge."

"Hope you're right about that, little bird." Mal said drily. "Hate to get on that man's bad side. He's a curly wolf and no mistake."

"Mr. Worf is Klingon, Captain." Commander Riker spoke up, smiling. "They have a different point of view when it comes to combat injuries. Worf won't bear you any ill will."

"Glad to hear it."

"Captain we have arrived. _Serenity _is approximately 1 kilometer off our port bow." The ship appeared on the screen. Mal studied it, and then relaxed. It was just as they'd left it. He was about to ask Picard to hail her when Data spoke up again.

"Sir, the Reaver ships are continuing to accelerate. The entire swarm is on the move." Data reported. "They are headed this way, accelerating at 5 gravities. They should arrive in 15 hours 46 minutes."

"_Kan women zenme si ba_." River said brightly.

"Mandarin Chinese phrase. Translation: Let's all watch how we die." The unemotional computer voice spoke again.

"Computer, stop translating." Picard said hastily.

"Acknowledged." The computer replied.

"River's right." Mal said heavily. "They get here, they'll butcher anything moving. Plus they'll be too low on fuel to get back to that mystery planet. They'll have to hit New Melbourne to refuel. The whole gorram swarm. Probably hit the ships and stations in orbit too. Blood's gonna be deep enough to swim in."

Picard winced. "A vivid analogy, Captain."

"So what do you plan to do about it, _mon capitaine?" _A sarcastic voice spoke from Worf's normal station behind them. Picard stiffened, then stood very slowly and turned around. Mal wouldn't have wanted to cross him just then.

"Q." Picard said flatly. "What is your part in all this?"

"_Moi_?" Q asked, putting on hand over his heart and drawing back in mock horror. "Jean Luc, you wound me!"

"I wish." Mal muttered.

"I heard that, barbarian." Q snarled. "Who's this?" He asked, smiling as River shyly walked up to him, head down. "A little girl? Jean Luc that's just pathet-gluck!" Smiling benignly, River pulled her hand back sharply. Q looked at what she held in her hand in shock.

"_Baituo, anjing yidian!_" River said coldly. She dropped something wet and red to the deck and wiped her bloody hand down the front of Q's chest, fouling the gold and black jumpsuit with a massive red smear. Eyes wide Q vanished; along with the piece of him River had torn free.

"Little bird, what did you do?" Mal asked, speaking carefully.

"An unstructured total laryngectomy." River replied, studying the console before her.

"River, please step away from that console." Picard said kindly. "You might hurt someone."

"Ok." Obediently she walked around the railing to join Mal who looked at her, then looked at Picard.

"How'd you do that?" He asked in disbelief.

"He used the magic word, silly." River said, and giggled.

"That girl is a menace, Jean Luc." Q said. He was standing in front of the view screen, looking completely untouched.

"I notice your mouth's still flappin'." Mal said sourly. "She can't have hurt you too sorely."

"Q, unless you have something constructive to add don't let us detain you." Picard said.

"As if a mere mortal could harm me." Q said. "At most you can cause superficial damage to my avatar."

"You talk mighty big from way over there." Mal said, smiling. "Notice you ain't getting close to River or me though. Why is that?"

"So you aren't tempted into launching another ill-advised attack. I let you have one free shot, Captain, don't get cocky." Q warned coldly. "By now even your puny intellects must have figured out why I brought you here. In approximately 24 hours those Reavers will arrive at New Melbourne, and proceed to annihilate every human being within striking distance."

"Because you orchestrated the situation, Q." Picard said coldly.

"Did I, Picard?" Q asked. "Who _created _the Reavers? It wasn't me. Who went and kidnapped one? Not me. Who's bearing down on New Melbourne, intent on murder and rapine? Not me."

"No, _mon capitaine, _this is purely human problem between humans. All _I _did was give New Melbourne a fighting chance."

"Hello Coyote." River said. Q turned, beaming at her.

"Clever girl. Yes, I've been called that."

"You meddle. The others don't like that." River smiled. "Coyote's wearing a collar now. Has a leash."

Q frowned. "Alas, not even the Q have evolved beyond politics. The inescapable curse of sentience."

"So--you can't actually _do _nothing, can you?" Mal asked. "Cause somebody'll pull you up sharpish should you try swatting the Reavers, right?"

"Crude and terribly ungrammatical, but your puny brain has grasped the essentials, barbarian." Q admitted. "Even I have to operate within certain guidelines. The Q version of the Prime Directive, if you will." His face grew stern.

"But make no mistake, barbarian. There is a world of difference between not acting directly and doing nothing. And you, Jean Luc, so willingly fall into that gray area."

"You want us to do your dirty work, is that it Q?" Picard asked sourly.

"I want you to do whatever you like, _mon capitaine_. Whatever you feel is the _compassionate_ course of action. I wouldn't dream of interfering." With a taunting laugh Q vanished.

"I begin to feel a certain dislike towards that individual." Mal declared.

"Indeed." Picard said.

"Captain, _Serenity_ is hailing us." Data said.

"On screen, Mr. Data."

"_Enterprise, _come in please." Zoe's face appeared on the screen, a good ten feet high.

"Go ahead, Captain Reynolds." Captain Picard said. "She can see and hear you. You can speak at a normal volume."

"Zoe, my boat all shiny?" Mal asked.

"Yes, sir, just the way you left her. You still in one piece?"

"More or less. We got big problems headed our way."

"Why doesn't that surprise me? Sir." Zoe said, deadpan.

"Looks like the Reavers decided to hit the big time. They're headed straight for us, over three hundred ships. But it gets better. We been told by Q they're gonna hit New Melbourne in just under 24 hours."

"_Wo de ma." _Zoe breathed.

"And all her wacky nephews." Mal agreed.

"You believe him, sir?"

"Seems like Q ain't entirely the _feifei de piyan _after all, much as it pains me to say it aloud. Sounds like he's got some politics that gum him up, same as us. Anyhow, he can't do nothing as useful as throw the Reavers into the sun, so looks like it's up to _Enterprise._"

"What about us, sir?"

"I'm thinkin' New Melbourne ain't gonna be a good place to be in the foreseeable future. If it's shiny with Captain Picard I'm thinking of having _Enterprise _tow _Serenity _on a new course. Constance, maybe."

"So we're cutting and running, sir?" Zoe said. No one except Mal and possibly River read the condemnation in her voice.

"Not much choice. Over three hundred Reaver ships, Zoe. We may be mighty, but we ain't _that _mighty. Don't wanna run. Got little say in the matter."

Zoe sighed. "Understood, sir. Guess you're right. Hate running out on folks, is all."

"Me too, but we'd be about as much use as a spit wad in an artillery duel and you know it."

"True enough. I'll set things up on this end. How soon till I should have Inara fetch you and River?"

Mal hesitated. "Hold that thought, Zoe. Got some jawing to do with Captain Picard. Last minute stuff. I'll call. Get _Serenity_ ready for towing."

"Aye, sir. _Serenity _out." Zoe's face was replaced with the plot of the oncoming Reaver ships.

"We'll be happy to tow _Serenity _on a new course, Captain." Picard said as Mal turned to him. "No offense intended, but your ship has no place in the middle of a battle."

"None taken. Her lot in life is haulin' cargo, not slingin' lead. Most times I prefer it that way. But listen, I'd like to sit in on the last meetin, to find out what your plans are concernin' the Reavers. I--or River--could maybe be of some small use. Plus, it would be a kindness on your part, lettin' us help. Otherwise it's like I run out on you in your hour of need after you saved me and mine. Wouldn't be of much worth if'n I done that."

Picard watched him for a moment. "Captain Reynolds, I appreciate the sentiment, but let me be blunt. This meeting is to decide whether or not _Enterprise_ destroys the Reavers. In effect, whether we obey the Prime Directive and do nothing, or violate it and save New Melbourne. Can I have your word if _Enterprise _decides to do nothing you'll leave this ship quietly? Otherwise you must leave now."

Mal looked at the man. Picard was dead serious. _Just have to show 'em Reavers are worse than breakin' the rules. Ain't no different than a hundred other scrapes I had to claw my way out of. Stakes are higher, is all._

"Yeah, you got my word." Mal said, hoping against hope he wouldn't be called on to keep his promise.


	12. Ch 12: Council Of War

The tow got under way even as the meeting was coming to order. The meeting room was crowded with the same cast of characters as the first, including Guinan. Even Worf was there, although he was moving carefully. Dr. Crusher was sitting right beside him, apparently to insure he did nothing taxing.

Captain Picard opened the meeting with a summary of the mess they found themselves in.

"By now you're aware Q has placed us squarely in the middle of a disaster. There are over three hundred Reaver ships headed this way. Our capture of one of the Reavers for study somehow triggered a massive attack. I don't know if they're after us, and New Melbourne is just a convenient target, or if the moon was their target all along and we're simply in their way."

"It doesn't matter. The fact is we are here because Q put us here. Our choices are simple. Either we keep the Prime Directive and withdraw, doing nothing, or we kill every Reaver in the attacking fleet. Those are the only two options I currently see. Ladies and gentlemen, I want others."

"Data, what do we know about New Melbourne?" He asked the android.

"It appears to be a world with a large ocean to land mass. Where Earth is approximately 75 percent ocean, New Melbourne is 90 percent ocean, with a few large islands scattered across the moon. New Melbourne is approximately three quarters the diameter of Earth, but the surface gravity is Earth normal due to Alliance gravimetric technology." Data began.

"The planet is somewhat sparsely populated, with a total population of approximately 50 million people. There are only two cities of any size on the planet, one has a population of about a half million, the other a quarter million. The primary industry appears to be fishing and food export. Currently there are about two thousand ships either in orbit or on the surface, with a number of other ships either inbound or outbound. New Melbourne appears to supply food to much of the Charan system and be an important trading nexus."

"I have run a number of simulations, based on the observed behavior of the Reaver we brought on board, as well as the accounts of the crew of the _Serenity_. Taking into account the projected crew size of the attacking fleet, I have estimated the death toll from an all out assault will be at least one hundred thousand, assuming the Reavers do nothing more than land and attack with small arms. The Reaver fleet contains one large military vessel which is capable of orbital bombardment. If that ship is carrying nuclear weapons the immediate death toll could be as high as twenty million. The follow-on effects of destroying New Melbourne's economic infrastructure could also have dire consequences for the rest of the Chara system."

"Famines." Commander Riker guessed.

"Yes, sir. Probably within three months. This would weaken other Charan worlds and make the Reaver fleet a dire threat to the whole system." Data agreed. Mal felt numb. He'd known it would be bad, but not _this _bad. Data was cataloging a disaster on the same scale as Earth-that-was.

"Thank you, Data. Dr. Crusher, what do we know about Reavers? What caused this massive homicidal mania among them?"

"I don't even know where to begin." Dr. Crusher spread her hands helplessly. "First, their DNA _is _human, so this isn't a different species we're dealing with. But the Reavers show enormous physiological changes compared to normal humans. It's unbelievable. If I didn't have _Serenity_'s accounts I'd swear we were dealing with some one-of-a-kind mutation."

"Trust me, Doctor; all Reavers are pretty much alike." Mal spoke up. "Fast, strong, homicidal maniacs that like to cut on themselves almost as much as their victims."

"I believe you. That's why I'm treating the Reaver we brought on board as representative."

"So what changes are we talking about?" Geordi asked her.

"Well, first of all they display a complete lack of neoteny." Dr. Crusher said.

"Neo-whatsis?" Mal interrupted.

"Neoteny is the retention of juvenile characteristics in the adult. Its one reason humans are the weakest members of the ape family. An adult chimpanzee has ten times the strength of a strong human. Chimps are also much more aggressive than humans. Reaver muscle tissue shows a far denser structure, more ape-like than human. I estimate a Reaver has at least eight times the strength of a normal human, possibly more. They're stronger than Klingons or Vulcans."

"The Reaver nervous system is also different. Peripheral nerves have somehow extended, reducing the number of synapses. This gives them faster reflexes than a human. The nerve signals travel faster because they don't have as many synapses to jump. Based on my tests a Reaver's reflexes are about half again as fast as a normal human's. At the same time there is a pronounced deficiency of dermal nerve branching."

"Which means?" Mal said, struggling to keep afloat amid the medical jargon.

"It means a Reaver has a reduced sense of touch across their skin, my guess is they have almost none. They can't feel heat, cold, pressure, or pain."

"That would help explain how the Reaver withstood repeated hits from the security team's phasers." Data said. "A portion of the stun effect is neurological."

"It could also explain the self-mutilation." Dr. Crusher said. "They don't feel cuts or burns or much of anything else. To a Reaver, scarification might serve the same purpose as tattooing in some tribal societies."

"It's the changes in brain structure that concern me the most." She took a deep breath. "The Reaver I examined had an enlarged amygdala, nearly three times its normal size. In addition the serotonin level in his brain was incredibly low. That means a Reaver would be much more prone to violent aggression than a normal human. When you add that to the nearly toxic levels of testosterone and cortisol in his blood I think we've found the source of their mania. But there's more."

"I've found evidence of neurologically based xenophobia. Reavers fear those not like themselves, and given their hyper-aggression and the massive amygdala, that fear would trigger extreme rage."

"So...what you're sayin', Doctor, is that Reavers are the way they are because of their brain?" Mal asked.

"Exactly. A Reaver, seeing a normal human, sees something so alien it must be destroyed. If the Reaver I examined is typical, peaceful coexistence between Reavers and humans would be impossible, since the Reaver would find the concept literally unthinkable."

"Captain Reynolds, let me ask you a question. Have you ever heard of a Reaver attacking another Reaver?"

Mal opened his mouth...and then closed it, thinking. Finally he said "I never have. Reavers pack their ships full too. You'd think they'd be tearin' each other apart so fast they'd never be a risk to the rest of us."

"That means they aren't hyper-aggressive to each other. And I'll tell you something else. I will bet you'll never find a female Reaver."

"Why is that, Doctor?" Picard asked, interested.

"Because I found the mutagen responsible." She said with satisfaction. There was a stir around the table.

"So, you gonna tell us?" Mal demanded.

"Oh, sorry. Yes. It's called paxilon hydrochlorate. It's a synthetic serotonin analog developed by the Andorians. They use it to treat depression."

"And what effect does it have on humans, Doctor?" Data asked. She frowned.

"That's just it. It acts as a sort of super-tranquilizer, leaving the patient nearly comatose. Or-if mixed with certain amino acids-it causes complete loss of will. The patient will simply lie down and die of starvation or dehydration. That's why it was never pursued by the other races. Andorian physiology neutralizes the amino acids that cause the will-sapping reaction."

"Then how come Reavers are so fearsome?" Mal asked. "Sounds like whatever this stuff is, shoulda killed 'em off, not made 'em living nightmares."

"There's a somewhat rare genetic mutation that occurs on the Y chromosome." Dr. Crusher replied. "It creates an enzyme that cuts paxilon hydrochlorate into a harmless protein and a pair of prions. Those prions are what we call aggressive catalysts. They take normal serotonin and cut it into a harmless protein and more of the catalyst prions. But that only happens if the amino acids that cause the lethal version of paxilon are present."

"So these prions are sort of like a virus?" Geordi asked.

"Kind of. Prions are much smaller than a virus, but they can replicate. This results in a massive prion load which triggers an epigenetic cascade. It's that cascade that begins transforming an ordinary human into a Reaver.

"You said this paxilon stuff was synthetic?" Mal asked suddenly. "As in made by people?"

"Oh yes. It's a difficult process; I believe the Andorians have to use nanotechnology on top of genetic engineering to create it."

"Nanotech." Mal's voice was flat. "Tell me, Doctor, in extremely small concentrations, what would the effect be?"

Dr. Crusher frowned, thinking. "Depending on the dosage, and how it was administered, the most probable effect would be some sort of passivity."

"Passivity. This passivity, would it make the victim suggestible?"

Dr. Crusher cocked her head. "This is going somewhere, isn't it?"

"Yup." Mal was grim.

"I don't think the victim would be suggestible; probably apathetic would be a better description."

"So, if somebody came up with a way to oh, say dispense this stuff in the air circulators, would you say the result would be a populace that wasn't too particular about how they was governed?" Mal asked.

"Probably." She said after a moment. "But aside from being a complete and utter violation of the Hippocratic oath, there's still the amino acid problem and the prion issue."

"How rare is this Reaver gene? One in a million?" Mal asked.

"Oh no. More like one male out of every five thousand." Dr. Crusher said.

"Those gorram arrogant _tama de hundan!_" Mal swore with venom that impressed even Worf. "Doctor, speaking hypothetical-like, what population would it take to create that Reaver fleet headed our way?"

"Data, how many Reavers do you estimate are on those ships?"

"Approximately three thousand, Doctor. And to anticipate your next question, assuming it affected only the male population at a rate of one individual per five thousand, the necessary population, assuming equal distribution of the Reaver gene, would be approximately thirty million."

"Sounds like a typical population on a young world, don't it?" Mal asked bitterly.

Suddenly Picard caught on, the pieces falling into place. "The sixteenth planet."

"Give the man a kewpie doll. The way I figure, the Alliance created a new drug to keep the populace in line. Coulda been before the war. They tested it in a lab, but it was a secret, see? Not a large test, maybe a few hundred at most. The test goes well, the drug looks harmless to those as ain't gonna be breathin' it, so they decide on a full scale field test."

"Only, here's the thing. Every world we terraformed in this system's had its little quirks. Regina, for instance. They've got mines there that release a gas from the minerals. Mixes with air and creates somethin' called Bowden's Malady. Lots of folks on Regina got it, 'specially the miners. There's a drug that keeps it in check, but no drug means folks who got Bowden's die a slow death, losin' control of their lungs, eventually suffocatin'. And the Alliance is the only place to get the drug."

"I'm thinkin' our mystery planet might'a had the good Doctor's amino acids. They mixed with the paxilon and _bam_. Instant Reaver factory. Course the Alliance didn't intend it that way, probably caused some heads to roll when the _go se_ hit the air circulator." Mal said.

"But if you're right--oh my God!" Dr. Crusher turned pale. "That would mean three thousand Reavers released into a population that would just _lie _there, unable to fight back."

Mal nodded. "And Reavers would have had themselves a fine old time. Till the bodies ran out, at least. Then the Reavers'd probably go lookin' for fresh meat."

"Excuse me, Doctor. If there are no female Reavers then won't the Reaver population die out?"

"No, Data. Reavers don't need females to reproduce." Dr. Crusher said.

"'Scuse me?" Mal asked, perplexed. "I can understand all the rapin' now, see'ns how there ain't no lady Reavers and all, but you kinda need ladies to make babies."

"Reavers don't reproduce sexually, Captain Reynolds." Dr. Crusher replied. "They reproduce by _infection_."

Her words sent a chill down Mal's spine. "Let me guess. Those prion thingies, they get into the Reaver's blood, right?"

Dr. Crusher nodded. "Yes. That could explain the cutting and other atrocities. The Reavers are trying to breed, but the prions don't produce Reavers in women, or most men. The prion load would kill anyone without the Reaver gene."

"That's why you find survivors on occasion." Mal said, sick. "The ones who live, that turn into Reavers, it's cause of those prion things. I never thought about it, but every survivor I ever heard tell of was a man. How long would it take?"

"The mental effects would probably begin after a few weeks." Dr. Crusher said. "Once the epigenetic cascade was in full swing, I'd say six months to create a mature Reaver."

"Doctor, once all normal humans have been killed or turned into Reavers, the Reaver population would die out within a generation?" Data asked.

"Yes Data. But assuming a Reaver isn't killed in battle, their lifespan is only about 20 years from the time they're infected. The physiological changes drastically reduce their lifespan." Dr. Crusher said.

"Could the Alliance have developed paxilon on their own, Doctor?" Picard asked. Dr. Crusher frowned again, considering.

"It's possible, given their abilities in nanotechnology and genetics. If Captain Reynolds is right about the Alliance wanting drugs to control the population then serotonin would be a natural target for tinkering. Once you know the molecular shape you're after, it's just a matter of determining how to make the proteins fold the way you want. That's why paxilon is so hard to make, the molecule wants to fold into the wrong way."

"Can the epigenetic cascade be reversed, Doctor?"

She hesitated. "I can't say it's impossible, but we can't do it with current Federation medical knowledge. We could certainly use the transporters to destroy the prions, but that would have no effect on the results of the cascade. At best it might save someone in the early stages of infection."

"You talkin' about turning a Reaver back into a _man_?" Mal asked in disbelief. "Even if you was able to change 'em back, they'd still have the memories of what they done. Man knew he done those things, blow his brains out, like as not."

Captain Picard settled back in his chair and frowned.

"So we know what the Reavers are. We know how they came to be and we also know who is responsible. What we don't know is whether we should intervene or not."

"Captain, the Reavers are in effect parasites." Data spoke up. "Like a deadly disease they will kill their hosts and then die out themselves. As such they cannot be considered a viable civilization. Destroying them will allow the current civilization to continue to develop."

"So, Data, you are saying destroying the Reavers is the equivalent of saving a patient's life from disease?" Picard asked.

"Yes, sir." Data nodded. "If we do not act we certainly condemn millions to die, either at the hands of the Reavers or from starvation. Logically, the cost of inaction would seem morally unacceptable. On the other hand, it would appear most of the Charans are unaware of the Reaver's existence. Should we destroy them the effect on the direction of Charan civilization should be minimal."

"And if we don't interfere with Charan development," Commander Riker spoke up. "then we haven't broken the Prime Directive."

"A bit of sophistry, Commander?"

"Sir?" Commander Riker asked, face carefully blank.

"It might be argued allowing this civilization to self-destruct would in the long run be beneficial to its development."

"'ceptin' if the Reavers get the upper hand won't be nobody left to rebuild." Mal said drily.

"There is that." Picard allowed.

"Could we disable their engines, Captain?" Mr. La Forge asked. "Tow them back and beam them off their ships?"

"If it were only one ship that would be a solution." Data said. "However, since there are 326 vessels in the attacking fleet we lack the capability of changing the fleet's course before they arrive at New Melbourne. Should vessels from New Melbourne attempt rescue of the Reavers, believing them to be in distress the death toll would be very large. It would also be impossible to conceal the existence of Reavers from the Charan populace at large."

"Mayhap that's no bad thing." Mal said in a thoughtful voice. "Seems to me a project the size what created the Reavers would have to be run from the very highest. Parliament, maybe. Do my heart good to see Parliament brought down."

"Captain, that's exactly the kind of interference the Prime Directive is designed to prevent." Picard said sternly.

"Man can dream, can't he?" Mal said with a grin.

"So we can't disable the engines." Councilor Troi said. "What about generating a gigantic warp field to surround the fleet? Use warp drive back to their planet, then destroy their engines, and beam them down?"

"Unfortunately, Councilor, our warp envelope can't be extended to a second ship, much less the entire fleet." Data said.

"Sides, even if you put 'em back on the planet, what's to keep 'em there?" Mal said. "They obviously found ships once. Maybe Reavers is smart enough to build 'em from scratch. With a whole world to draw on, what's to stop 'em?"

"How aggressive would they be if we removed the prions? Could we create some agent to neutralize them?" Councilor Troi asked the doctor.

"Maybe. But it would take weeks to discover, synthesize, and develop dosages. We only have 24 hours. Besides, there's still the xenophobia. That's neurological, not biochemical."

The debate went on for a couple of hours. Mal stayed quiet, only supplying answers when they asked him a question. He was impressed at the number of alternatives to outright genocide the officers came up with, and how quickly the flaws of each alternative were found. Personally, he found the whole thing a waste of time, but he could understand Picard's desire to avoid so much killing, even if they were Reavers. _Don't agree, mind you. _Mal thought.

Finally, it was obvious no one could think of anything else.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it appears we are left with our original two options." Captain Picard said heavily. "Allow the destruction of New Melbourne-and possibly the entire Chara system, or destroy the Reavers completely. It's clear the consensus is that _Enterprise _should destroy the Reavers. And personally, I agree the Reavers are certain death to New Melbourne, and the death of those people will be horrific beyond description."

"However, there is still the matter of the spirit of the Prime Directive. Q has put us in an impossible moral position. He is asking us to choose who lives and who dies. What we choose here will have a profound effect on the Charan civilization, whatever we decide. If we don't act we may be responsible for destroying this civilization completely, in an apocalypse of abomination. If we do act we commit genocide. The Charan civilization continues, however.

"Although you've provided invaluable input in framing the decision, ultimately the decision rests firmly on my shoulders. I accept full responsibility for it, and will so inform Star Fleet if and when we return to our own universe."

"I will inform the crew of my decision in one hour. Dismissed."

As they were filing out of the conference room, Mal found himself walking next to Commander Riker.

"One hell of a man, your captain." Mal observed quietly.

"Yes he is." Riker agreed solemnly. "This could end his career, you know. Might even land him in prison."

"Could be." Mal allowed. "The high and the mighty get a mite tetchy when somebody breaks their holy writ. But seems to me that ain't gonna be part o' his figurin'."

Riker frowned. "The Prime Directive is intended to protect civilizations from the Federation. Bad things can happen if it's broken."

"Worse'n all those folks on New Melbourne going to Hell while still breathin', you mean?" Mal asked sourly. "Don't take me wrong, Commander. I got a ton o' respect for everyone on this ship. You all walk the walk and hold to your laws, and try to keep your nose outta others business. That's a rare and wondrous thing. But there comes a time when _legal_ don't mean _right_ and a man's gotta take the law into his own two hands."

"Q says you're a smuggler and a train robber." Riker said. "Is that true?"

"It is." Mal nodded. "Man's gotta keep his crew fed, his ship flyin', honest jobs to be had or--otherwise." He looked Riker in the eye. "Robbed a train, on Regina. Fella named Niska wanted some crates the train was carryin', and the pay was good. Didn't ask no questions. Turns out I shoulda."

"Did the job, but got caught up in complications. Long story short, turns out those crates held Pasceline D, the only drug what can treat Bowden's Malady. Took those crates back, I did. Returned Niska's money too. Course, nasty fella he was, he kidnapped me and my pilot later on and tortured us near to death. Weren't for my crew I'd be floatin' twixt the stars, without so much as a blanket to keep the chill off."

"Point is I did the right thing takin' that job. Took that job to keep my crew fed. Did the right thing when I found out I was gonna cause death and sufferin' to those who never hurt me or mine. Did the right thing when I gave that _hundan _his money back. Tried to square things all round."

He kept staring Riker in the eye. "Now your Captain, he's a good man makin' an impossible choice. Man in that position, if he is a man and not a worm, chooses the right, not the legal. He ends up in jail? Well least he'll be sleepin' the sleep o' the just in his cell."

"Interesting philosophy." Commander Riker said. "I'm just glad it isn't me having to make that choice."

"Choice I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy." Mal agreed. "Buy you a drink, Commander? That is, if you're willin' to drink with a smuggler and a train robber?"

"Well, no. But I'm willing to drink with a man who does the right thing, Captain Reynolds. And buy that man a drink the second round." Commander Riker said with a grin.

"Truth to tell, that there synathol grows on a fella." Mal commented as he, River, and Commander Riker headed toward Ten Forward. "No headache the next morning."


	13. Ch 13: Rabid Dogs

"Attention, this is the Captain speaking. All hands, attention."

Picard's voice echoed through the entire ship. All over the _Enterprise_ crew members paused in their duties. Everyone knew what this announcement was about; they just didn't know what the Captain had decided. Everyone knew about the Reavers, knew how horrific they were, and had seen the bodies decorating the Reaver ship like obscene garlands.

Many hoped the captain would engage the fleet. Others were afraid he would. Some didn't know which decision they feared more.

"Even as I speak to you, a fleet of mutants called Reavers is on its way to destroy one of the worlds in this system, a terraformed moon named New Melbourne. You may be aware that we brought one of the Reavers onboard to perform a medical examination. Our tests revealed Reavers have suffered an irreversible mutation that has rendered them completely insane and incredibly violent, even homicidal."

"We have discovered Reavers are hopelessly xenophobic, at a biological level. The mere sight of a normal human sends Reavers into homicidal rage. During this rage they commit the most unspeakable atrocities, and will not hesitate to torture their victims to death, including infants. They have been known to eat victims that are still alive."

"Should that fleet reach New Melbourne it is certain the minimum death toll will reach one hundred thousand, the actual toll could be as high as twenty million individuals. Worse, the damage to New Melbourne's infrastructure could make it impossible for the planet to continue to supply food to the rest of the system, resulting in a system wide famine within three months time, placing the whole system in danger of destruction at the Reaver's hands."

"We have explored every possible alternative, including the possibility of disabling their ships. Nothing short of total destruction of every ship in the Reaver fleet will prevent a slaughter of innocents unprecedented in human history."

"As captain of this ship I have decided, on my own authority and discretion, that in this case the Prime Directive must be set aside for reasons which I deem good and sufficient."

"It is my order the _Enterprise _move to engage the Reaver fleet which is now approximately 18 hours from striking New Melbourne. _Enterprise _will not allow any Reaver ship to flee; we must destroy every single ship in the Reaver fleet. Likewise we will take no prisoners."

"There are some who argue what I am about to do is genocide. I am not sure they're wrong. But if the _Enterprise _does not act it is certain that tens of thousands of innocent people will die in agony, ripped to pieces by an enemy which is hopelessly insane."

"As of this moment I am declaring general quarters. All personnel to battle stations; prepare to engage the Reaver fleet."

Captain Picard pressed the button that shut down the intercom. The red alert lights began flashing, and the alarm klaxon sounded.

"Well, Captain Reynolds, it appears _Enterprise _is going to solve your Reaver problem once and for all." Picard said somberly. Mal nodded.

"I take no joy in this, Captain. But rabid dogs gotta be put down, afore they destroy everyone and everything dear. I just wanna say you're the better man. If I believed in God I'd pray for you."

Picard nodded. "Mr. Data, plot an intercept course for the Reaver fleet. Shields up, all phaser banks stand by. Arm photon torpedoes. Our primary target is the largest Reaver vessel. Once that is destroyed fire at will. Destroy every Reaver ship, let none escape."

"Shields up, Captain. Photon torpedoes armed, phasers standing by. Engaging warp drive, contact with enemy in approximately twenty-two seconds."

"Engage." Picard said.

Mal watched the tactical plot on the screen as the _Enterprise _closed the distance with her magical faster than light speed.

"Dropping out of warp now, Captain." Data reported calmly. "Distance to enemy one hundred thousand kilometers and closing. Primary target locked, launching torpedoes now." Mal watched as the screen showed a swarm of small ships, with one monster in the middle. Suddenly two sparks of light zoomed toward the largest ship and struck home. There was a blinding flash. When the light died down the large ship and some of the closest smaller ships had vanished.

"Primary target has been destroyed. Twelve other Reaver vessels also confirmed destroyed. Targets closing to sixty thousand kilometers, commencing phaser barrage."

Mal felt his jaw drop. Beams of scarlet light flickered over the screen, which pulled back to reveal the entire swarm of ships. As he watched explosions bloomed in the swarm. A scarlet beam would touch a ship and pass on, and that ship would simply explode, coming apart in a glowing fireball. Mal, an experienced soldier, recognized reactors going critical when he saw them.

The entire engagement was over in under a minute. The Reaver fleet was simply gone, wiped from the face of the 'verse. Mal stared, unable to think of anything to say. He felt numb. Even reminding himself they'd been Reavers didn't chase the chill from his spine. The _power_ this ship possessed was terrifying.

"Reaver fleet has been destroyed, Captain." Data said, still calm.

"Thank you, Data." Picard punched the button to activate the ship wide intercom.

"All hands, this is the Captain. Secure from general quarters. The Reaver fleet has been destroyed, New Melbourne is safe. That is all." Turning off the intercom he sat back, closing his eyes. He suddenly _looked_ like an old man, Mal thought. Mal had never considered Picard old before.

"Well, well, so the mighty Jean Luc Picard relinquishes his high moral ground to save a planet full of savage barbarians. Oh, well _done_, Captain." Q stood in front of the view screen. River started moving before Mal could grab her. Q waved a hand and she froze in place.

"Now, now. No more of that my savage little girl." Q strolled past the frozen River and confronted Mal.

"So, barbarian, are you happy? Three thousand four hundred eighteen deaths lay at your feet, to save one puny little world and its mewling masses."

"Not happy." Mal said. "What was needful got done. Can't cry over Reavers, true enough. Would take a better man than I." He glanced at the command chair. Picard was glaring at Q.

"What do you _want_ Q?" He demanded. "You want me to say I'm a murdering savage? Fine. I killed every one of those homicidal maniacs before they could slaughter the innocent. If they had attacked New Melbourne the slaughter would have been the _least_ of the horrors."

"Now we're getting somewhere." Q murmured, studying the captain. "Miracles are expensive, _mon capitaine._ And power _always_ exacts a toll. Remember that, when you're composing your report to Starfleet."

"You always found a way out before, didn't you Jean Luc? Always pulled a miracle out of your hat. Well, not this time. This time I rubbed your nose in it. This time there was no right answer, no cheap trick. This time you had to pay the piper. I hope you enjoyed the tune." He studied the seated man.

"No more arrogance, old friend? No more blathering on about the Federation's high moral values? Good. Maybe now you'll be ready to face the challenges in your future without hubris. Pride is fine in those that deserve it. But humans haven't earned it."

"We're done here. I've given your computer the coordinates for the rift. It will take you home, _mon capitaine. _All you have to do is fly right into it and you'll be back among your familiar friends and foes."

"As for you, barbarian, I've given you and yours a gift, but you'll never comprehend it. You played your part; you're the hero that defeated the Reavers. Pity no one will ever know." Q smiled. "Say hello to Wash and Book for me." He winked and vanished. Mal frowned.

"Now what the devil was _that_ all about?"

River started moving again, and then stopped, looking around in confusion.

"Where'd Coyote go?" She asked. She closed her eyes, raising her arms from her sides. Then she started to smile, a beautiful peaceful smile. It made Mal's skin crawl but all River did was come back to Mal and take his arm in hers.

"Coyote says goodbye." She said. "Says to tell you to keep flying."

"Does he now?" Mal asked quizzically. "That trickster is a puzzle, and no mistake."


	14. Ch 14: The Path Home

"Captain Reynolds." Picard stood, extending his hand. Mal took it and shook it firmly. "It appears Q is done with us, at least for now. Hopefully we can both return to our normal lives."

"It's been one hell of a ride, Captain Picard. Meeting the _Enterprise_ has restored some small flicker of hope in my cynical black heart." Mal said.

Picard smiled. "Meeting _Serenity_ was a stroke of good fortune. I'll not soon forget her or her crew. We'll return you to your ship and then my crew and I are going home."

"Good luck with your bigwigs. Hope they understand what you did was needful." Mal said somberly.

"Only time will tell." Picard said philosophically. "At any rate, Mr. Data plot a course for _Serenity_."

"Aye aye, sir. Course laid in."

"Engage." Picard turned to Mal. "I hope you find a good use for all that platinum in your hold, Captain." His eyes were twinkling. Mal gaped at him.

"You knew it was a fortune to us, didn't you?" He accused the older man.

"Of course." Picard actually _winked_ at him. "But it wasn't all that useful to us, and it did smooth the early relations between our ships. Smugglers don't have a monopoly on guile, you know."

"Huh." Mal said, impressed.

"_Serenity _off our port bow, Captain."

"Hail them, Mr. Data."

"Enterprise, calling _Serenity. _Come in please." The screen lit up, showing Zoe's face in gigantic splendor.

"_Serenity_ here. Welcome back _Enterprise_."

"Zoe." Mal said, stepping forward. "Good news. The Reavers ain't gonna be bothering anybody ever again."

"That's-good to know, sir." Zoe's eyes were wide. "Those last minute details you were referring to?"

"Taken care of." Mal said shortly. "I'd be obliged if you'd have the ambassador come pick up River 'n me. _Enterprise _is goin' home. And as splendid a ship as she is, I'd rather be back home on _Serenity_." He turned to Captain Picard. "No offense."

"None taken, Captain." Picard said with a smile. "A ship gets into her captain's blood, does she not?"

"Absolutely. Zoe, I'll see you in a few."

"Be good to have you back on board, Captain. _Serenity _out."

Picard accompanied Mal and River back to the hanger deck. Mal found he was eager to go home, though he was going to miss this enormous _t'ien lung _and her crew. As Inara's shuttle slipped into the bay he turned to Picard.

"Goodbye Captain Picard." He said extending a hand. "Good luck to you."

"And you, Captain. What are your plans?" Picard asked.

"Same as always. Do the job, get paid, and keep flyin'." Mal said. "Be a mite easier, I'm thinkin', thanks to your generosity. Speaking o' which, Q may be a royal pain in the _pigu_ but that sly old coyote did what was needful, in the end. Don't be too hard on him, Captain, should you cross paths again."

"I'll bear that in mind, Captain Reynolds." Picard said, nodding. He stiffened back as River unexpectedly flung her arms around him and gave him a huge hug.

"_Zai jian_, _t'ien lung yu shen de." _She said, letting him go and bowing. He bowed back.

"_Zai jian, xiao mei-mei."_ He said with a smile. River clapped her hands in delight, beaming.

"Thought you didn't speak Chinese, Captain." Mal said with a grin.

"I studied a few phrases." Picard said modestly. "Mostly to say thank you to the crew of _Serenity_. Please extend my compliments to your crew Captain, and my thanks."

"I'll do that." Mal nodded. There seemed nothing left to say so he and River turned and walked to the shuttle. River waved goodbye just before she boarded.

Picard watched the shuttle launch, then turned and walked thoughtfully from the shuttle bay, contemplating the extraordinary adventure the _Enterprise _had just been through.

Mal settled comfortably in the copilot's chair.

"So what happened?" Inara demanded as she headed for _Serenity_.

"Zoe tell everybody _Enterprise_ punched the Reaver's tickets?" Mal asked. Inara nodded. "Can't say too much more. Promised Captain Picard I wouldn't. Ain't that right, little bird?" He turned to address River.

"_T'ien lung _found his way." River said. "They're going home."

"I'm glad." Inara said. "As wonderful as _Enterprise_ is she doesn't belong here. It's like seeing elves from a fairy tale. I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and find this was all a dream."

"That would rile Jayne somethin' fierce, findin' out that platinum was naught but moon mist." Mal said, grinning. He sobered. "Uh, I'm sorry about setting _Serenity_ toward Constance, Inara. Seemed like New Melbourne was gonna be unhealthful."

"I know." Inara said softly. "As ever your heart was in the right place. Protecting your ship, your crew."

"Not to mention a certain ambassador." Mal said, then coughed and changed the subject. "Speaking o' that platinum, you know five percent is yours. You maybe could relax, take some time off. I was thinkin' after Constance maybe we could head to Pelorum. Crew ain't had proper shore leave in well nigh to a year now."

Inara paused, thinking. "You're right, Mal. I've never been to Pelorum before; it's supposed to be lovely. You can take me to dinner." Her grin grew mischievous. "You owe me for Paradiso."

_"Say yes." _River hissed in his ear. He blinked.

"Well, as long as you promise me no sword duels in the mornin'." He grinned. "Your social circle's kinda rough for the unsuspecting."

"No sword duels." Inara promised, setting the shuttle onto the landing platform. "Mal, look!"

Enterprise was turning slowly in the distance, pointing her nose outward. As they watched the magnificent ship seemed to stretch for an instant, and then vanished.

"Always onboard when she did that." Mal said. "That what it look like?"

"Yes." Inara said. "Farewell, _Enterprise. _May Buddha smile upon you."

As they left the shuttle Mal asked. "So, Inara, will this dinner involve spinach in any way?"

Inara's laughter echoed down the corridor and into the shuttle. Sitting in the pilot's seat Q smiled indulgently and vanished.


End file.
